Sunsets and Sheep
by KricketWilliams
Summary: After the season six finale, Penelope takes Kevin up on his sheep farm idea, and moves away from Quantico...and herself. All about finding her best friend and herself all over again. Starts off LG but ends up MG, of course. As always, I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Okay...when I first started writing fanficion, I did it because I would get upset over something that happened, and I would fix it in my own way. "Write" the wrong, so to say. Well...I did that with this year's season finale. Lynch and that talk about sheep farms...Gah!...To be honest, I was mad as hell, and I intended on this being a one shot to get that out...and it ended up being another epic where I worked though my feelings. That being said, this story may not be for everyone...but I can promise it ends up P and D with as much love and care as I give my HEAs...I ended up loving it... I hope you like it, too._

**Chapter 1**

Penelope Lynch hadn't quite known what to expect from a relaxed life away from the BAU, but she hadn't expected this. She was sitting on a front porch in a very old farmhouse, knitting and rocking in her plastic white Adirondack rocker, watching her grouping of white sheep baaing in the breeze. She was retired at the ripe old age of thirty-eight, in an area that didn't have cellular service...or internet access. A techless tech goddess.

Yes, things in Fountain City, Wyoming, were far more laid back and gentle than in Quantico, Virginia.

"Yeeeaaachooo!" her husband sneezed, making her jump in her chair and knock her yarn ball off her lap. The ball rolled slowly across the porch, falling off the side and into the bush, like the famous meatball in the song, _On Top of Spaghetti_.

Linux, their hairless cat, jumped off the porch and chased after it.

Kevin's allergies were really foul. He had a hard time just about all months of the year in this state. The green grasses, the tall prairies, the dander from the barnyard animals—all of them increased his sneezing. No amount of Nasonex® or Flonase® seemed to help.

And poor Linux was the laughingstock of all the neighborhood cats for no reason...Kevin was still allergic to him, too.

It was one of the many, _many_ poor decisions that Kevin had made with her—spur of the moment ones, from the moment they cashed in their 401k's and left the FBI together, arm in arm last spring.

"All I need is you, Penny," he'd said, those soft brown eyes glistening with hope, like she'd hung the moon for him. She'd never really hung the moon for anyone before.

She weighed it all out at that moment—Derek being courted heavily and possibly leaving for NYC, Prentiss dying, JJ being gone, and the rest of the unit in turmoil. She'd been so upset and worried, her stomach had roiled daily and she'd developed an ulcer.

She'd gone to her best friend for support...

"_Baby, hold on there," Derek told her after the trafficking case. "It's going to be __all right__."_

"_Can you promise me you'll stay?" she begged. She knew she sounded ridiculous, __but she needed him to stay. "Look me in the eyes and promise me, Derek Morgan."_

_He couldn't answer her with an affirmative...and her heart exited her chest in a blind panic._

"We'll be so happy!" Kevin had said. "A hobby farm out west. I've been looking, Penelope! It's wonderful! A huge white farmhouse, built in the early nineteen hundreds, acres of land, fresh water, and solar lights. It even has a red barn!"

He'd shown her the picture, and she'd fallen in love with him all over again. It had been exactly what she'd needed at exactly the right moment. She'd wanted what he'd offered: security, love, someone else making the decisions...and to never lose another friend to a violent death.

Never again.

She'd kissed him then and gone for it. They'd gotten married on the way, happy and full of dreams.

The farmhouse ended up being a hundred year old, mice infested dump. Fresh water was a dried up well they'd had to replace a month after moving in, and solar lights were holes in the roof.

It was a dream...a terrible, poorly planned dream.

"Wait! Here," she said, standing up and handing him a tissue before he could wipe his wet nose on his sleeve. Little things like that were really starting to annoy her. Kevin was losing his appeal; his boyish charm seemed more and more incompetent every day, and his lack of taking charge was becoming frustrating.

"I don't see what the big deal is," he said archly, blowing into the tissue, and then still wiping his nose on his cuff.

"Just use the tissue," she said through gritted teeth.

"Farmers have been wiping their noses on their sleeves for years."

That did it. For some reason, she couldn't take it.

She narrowed her eyes at him and put her hands on her hips. "Well, this farmer's wife is sick of cleaning snot from your shirts!"

She stomped up the front steps, hearing the loose boards creaking under her feet. It was too much; the whole place was too much.

Running up the stairs to her bedroom, she looked in the cracked glass at her reflection. She wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup, her hair was growing out into a very drab brown, and she looked every year her age. She opened her closet and saw the last dress she'd worn at the BAU—a white one with a pink bolero sweater. It seemed like a thousand years ago when she'd worn it.

Sitting on her bed, she stared at the dress. She missed her clothes, her technogadgets, her funky pens, and her high heels. She missed her designer purses, her colorful hair, and her lipstick. She missed Rossi, Hotch, and her Boy Wonder.

And most of all, she missed her Hot Stuff.

Derek would've known exactly what to say to make this all better. He always did. He had a knack for turning her worst possible moments into her best. She missed that, missed his laughter and his million watt smile that he'd only given to her. She missed his hugs, and his kisses on the top of her head. He'd know how to make this better, if only—

"Penelope."

She turned to look at Kevin and felt a tiny thread of light in her heart building. Maybe he would know what to say to make her realize she hadn't made a huge mistake. That they didn't screw up, using all their savings to fix a roof, a well, a heater... That they didn't need to watch every single penny—"_My Penny squeezing __pennies!"_—because living on love wasn't as fortuitous as it seemed.

Turning her face to her husband, she looked at him and smiled hopefully. "Yes?"

He reached in his pocket and removed a tissue. "I promise to keep some tissues in my pocket from now on. Okay?"

She felt the thread in her heart snap as she stared at him.

Not even close.

Forcing a brittle smile, she said, "Sure. Thanks."

And then he left.

She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands, giving away to hot, desolate tears, before returning to a life of sunsets and sheep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

AN: Thank you for the reviews and for reading this story!...

**Highways and Howdys**

Derek's ass was falling asleep again.

He'd known it was a long distance to Fortune City, Wyoming, but he hadn't anticipated quite that long. He took a flight first, and then rented a compact car at the local Hertz® to get to Penelope's sheep farm. He knew P and Lynch were in the sticks—no cell service and no internet equaled _the sticks_ to him—but this was really ridiculous. Still, he knew he needed to get there.

His baby girl needed him.

She hadn't said so in so many words. Her letter was blander than how she'd usually sounded to him—to the team, actually. She'd written to the team as a whole—but she still had her sense of humor. However, something was terribly off. Something that screamed to him, _I'm lonely, D, and I need you_.

He really shouldn't care anymore. She was a married woman, and her husband, bumbling fool that he was, was indeed her husband. He'd stood between her and Kevin for so many years—being her support, her strength, the first person she went to when she was in trouble. That wasn't his job anymore; her making it legal with the man changed it for him.

However, he couldn't deny a distress call. It didn't matter if she'd moved to Antarctica with her husband; he'd make things better for her. It was only fair... She'd been his God given solace for so many years.

She still was. No one else could fill those shoes.

He didn't fault her for leaving. Hell, no. All of them were looking, reevaluating their lives, because of what happened with Prentiss. He wished to God every single day that Garcia hadn't left, and even wished to the devil a few times, because he'd lost a whole lot of his faith—which he'd been a bit short of to begin with—when she'd gone. The sun didn't seem to shine so brightly this last summer, and the winter was a lot colder without her.

He loved her that Goddamned much.

Now, it was spring, and they'd received their second snail mail from her—just a friendly note with some pictures of some lambs ("Lambies" she called them) in the letter. He had to admit, they were very cute.

She'd never sent a picture of herself. He'd pictured her in a red checkered shirt that matched her lipstick and overalls. She'd be barefoot, her long hair in twin braids, and she'd have a straw hat on, along with a piece of straw between her teeth. Oh, yeah...a naughty Midwest farmer's daughter, like one that had been on the calendars in one of his old dorm rooms.

He stopped smiling then. No, she was a Midwest farmer's _wife_...Big fucking difference.

He pulled in front of a diner right off the county road. There weren't many interstates where he had to travel. What the hell had Lynch been thinking, moving her way the hell to the middle of nowhere? His P was a city girl, born and raised. She'd had hippie parents, but she'd also had _designer_ reusable bags and natural granola she'd purchased from the specialty part of the co-op. This did not seem like his girl.

But she hadn't been his girl really...had she?

Derek plopped down at the counter, where only two other rather smelly truck drivers were sitting. It felt good to stretch his legs and get the blood flowing to his extremities. Next time, he was renting a luxury car—piss on the fees; he'd pay 'em.

"Howdy, handsome," the plump, older waitress said, standing in front of him. "What can I do you for?"

"Just a burger and fries," he said. "And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee."

She laughed. "How you like it?"

"Black."

"Strong man...strong coffee," she commented, before swaying her ample hips toward the order window.

As he sat there, he checked his phone. There were a few texts. One was JJ. _Did u c her yet?_

JJ had returned to the BAU just after Penelope left. They'd passed like ships in the night. Penelope wouldn't have known until he'd written to her a few months ago. She hadn't commented on it in this latest letter, which had surprised him. He'd thought she'd have something to say; Jayje and P were almost as close as he was with her.

The waitress filled his cup as he texted back a negative answer, and then he grimaced. It wasn't going through. Cell service was already spotty. He took a sip of the piping hot coffee and let his thoughts wander again...

"Derek, I can't take change. I can't take anymore people leaving me," she'd said earlier that day.

He'd known she was talking about Prentiss, talking about JJ, talking about Hotch and the meeting they'd had. He'd known she was scared...and he still hadn't given her a positive response, one that would've made her stay.

The truth was, after Prentiss dying, after all the turmoil, he hadn't known what was going to happen with him. He'd wanted more, wanted to advance his career, and having his own team was a huge step toward that. He'd been just as scared as she was, but he'd kept it all inside like he usually did. That was part of the beauty of their friendship; she'd externalized what he'd felt inside.

She bravely lived the emotions. He was more of a coward.

"I let you down, baby," he said to himself, looking into his cup of coffee.

The waitress laid the food in front of him, and he smiled up at her. "Thanks."

"You okay there, sug?" she asked. "You look a bit peaked."

He chuckled a little. No one had flirted with him in a long time. Not since...

"I'm fine, really." He pulled out a map from his back pocket. "But maybe you could help me? I'm looking for a friend in Fortune City."

"Well, hon, you're about a hundred and fifty miles from there," she said, shaking her head. "Ain't nothin' but sheep farms and dirt out there."

Derek smiled sadly, thinking about all those lambies. "Yeah, I heard."

"If you take 95 to 64, you will get to the town center. There's another diner like this there," she said with a smile. "Ask for Shirl. She's my sister. She knows everyone in that town."

Chuckling, Derek winked and said, "Thanks, beautiful."

Blushing, the waitress walked away, looking very pleased with herself.

Derek took a big bite of his burger, hoping to finish his sandwich quickly. It was only five pm. If he hurried, he'd see his best friend before nightfall.

* * *

><p>Driving down the longest dirt road Derek had ever seen, he weaved a way in the glare from the sunset until he reached a colorful mailbox—20457 Cherry Tree Road... the home of Penelope Garcia-Lynch.<p>

The house looked big and looming, even in his headlights. It was massive, white, and rather dilapidated. Most of the houses in the town looked that way. He guessed that the home was at least one hundred years old and not showing its age well. He pulled up the long drive and parked to the side of the house, exiting quickly.

He had written that he was coming to visit, and he wished to God that he could've called her. He felt so nervous; his heart was beating a million miles an hour in his chest. He could smell sweet hay and the remnants of sunshine on the air. No wonder Penelope loved it here.

As he neared the front of the house, he swore he caught the hint of fresh bread and the gentle smell of peaches and roses...Penelope's perfume.

Looking up at the front porch, he saw her standing there. She was wearing a long dress with flowers, and her hair was darker honey colored, with natural, sun kissed blonde streaks. Her cheeks were sprinkled with freckles from being in the sun, and the tip of her nose was reddened. He couldn't move a step; he just stared at her and drank her in, like a man dying of thirst finally reaching an oasis.

She must've felt the stare like a palpable feeling, because she frowned slightly, and then looked up in his direction. Her huge blue eyes widened in disbelief, and then one hand flew to her mouth, while the other flew to her chest.

"Howdy," he said, in the local way of greeting.

And then she was off the porch, nearly jumping into his open arms as he caught her in a fierce embrace, picking her up and twirling her in a circle. They held onto each other for a long time, just standing there. She began to cry, and he knew that he was crying, too; her hair was sticking to his wet cheek.

"Oh, how I missed you!" she cried, holding him tightly, her face buried in his neck.

"Not anywhere near as much as I missed you," he answered honestly.

And as he held her, he realized he'd travel a thousand miles more, down so many more highways, just to hold her again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews, beautiful people! This takes a while, but we get there, I promise..._

**Friendship and Reality**

When Derek pulled away to look at her, he immediately cupped her face in his hands like he had a thousand times before.

"God, woman, you look wonderful!" he said, his brilliant grin as magnetic and powerful as ever, making her feel as if her feet weren't touching the ground.

That wasn't it, however; that was only a small part of the man, a tiny bit of the entire package that soothed her soul and was a balm to her spirit. Seeing him smile, that familiar, wonderful smile, and the glitter of joyful tears in his melted chocolate eyes warmed her and gave her more energy than her tired body knew what to do with.

"You're very perceptive, Derek Morgan," she said, although she didn't mean a word she was saying. She knew she looked like a country bumpkin, a tired ghost of what she'd been in Quantico. Still, she'd fake it until she could make it, like she had so many times before at the BAU.

It was a little known secret...Penelope Garcia hadn't always felt as fierce and fabulous as she pretended to be. Very few people knew that truth...but the man standing in front of her knew. He knew, and he had made her feel exactly like she'd wanted to feel—beautiful, powerful, and strong. He'd given her wings and let her fly. Not only that, when one of her wings had been damaged, he had been there to catch her, never letting her fall.

Her heart ached in her chest as she looked at him. She'd given that up. She'd given it up because she'd been scared and a dream sounded so much better than reality. She'd given up on him and on friendship, giving in to love and promises, instead.

"Agent Morgan."

Derek removed his hands rather quickly, and then turned to face her husband. He extended his hand toward her spouse. "Kevin."

Scowling, Kevin shook Derek's hand, and then slid his arm around Penelope. It wasn't something Kevin did often back in Quantico or in Fortune City. They were close to the same height; he had told her in the past that it was an uncomfortable position for him and made his upper arm and neck ache.

"I didn't know you were visiting," he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Derek. "You _are_ just visiting, correct?"

Derek gave him a cheeky grin. "Well, Kevin, I do have a job I have to go back to. There aren't many people, much less Unsubs, in Wyoming."

Penelope giggled; there was definite truth in that. There were only four hundred ninety seven people in her city. She knew a lot of them by name.

Kevin pushed his glasses on the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. That irritated Penelope; it was a passive aggressive way of flipping Morgan the bird. She wouldn't have known that if they hadn't talked about it one day when Nina Fitzgerald and Rod Malecha had been teasing her in the commissary at the BAU. Kevin had told her to do that.

"Actually, I was thinking you may be doing a recruitment thing for the FBI," Kevin replied, his eyes narrowing. "That maybe Agent Hotchner sent you?"

Penelope watched Derek shift his weight to his other foot, something he did when he was upset, too. She knew him well enough to know when something was bothering him.

However, his tone was calm when he said, "No one can replace Penelope; I'd love to have her back...but no, Lynch. This visit is purely pleasure."

"Well, you are welcome here," Kevin said, as if he really had any say in the matter, "as long as you don't try to lure my wife away with sweeping tales of criminals and code!"

She couldn't believe the pissing match her husband was having with her best friend! She'd never been so humiliated in her life. Immediately, she stepped away from Kevin to Derek's side, putting her arm around his lean waist.

"Kevin was just teasing you, Morgan," she said with a glare at her husband as she passed him. "Of course you are welcome here. I am so happy you came all this distance! Can I offer you some lemonade, an iced tea...a beer?"

He gave her a squeeze once they were out of eyesight of Kevin and said, "Baby, I don't want to cause trouble with you and your husband. That is not why I am here."

She gave him a pursed lip stare. "Lemonade, tea, or beer, Hot Stuff?"

He smiled at her and chuckled. "All right, honey. You win. I'd love some lemonade."

"How about an Arnie Palmer?" She walked into her kitchen and pulled two glasses out of her cupboards, and then went to her ancient icebox. "That's lemonade and tea mixed. It's really tasty."

"Wow."

"No, it is really good." She was adding ice cubes to the glass, and looked up when he didn't respond.

Derek was looking around at her house, a frown of concentration on his face. He must've seen what she did when she'd first walked in seven months ago: peeling paint, cracked walls, a wood floor that had seen better days, and decrepit wallpaper.

Her stomach clenched. How different this place was from her apartment in Quantico. They would sit on her plush purple couch, among the kitschy knickknacks, and laugh at the movies on her super eight. There, everything was sleek and colorful and modern. This was a far cry from that. She hadn't had the money to do any of the things she really wanted to do with this place.

She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself. She made her choice; she had to live with it.

Squaring her shoulders, she pasted on a happy smile and handing him a glass. "Here you go. Local treat."

He took a sip and smiled. "Sugar sweet and a bit tangy, too. A lot like a tech girl I'd once known..."

"Oh, honey, you still know her," she said, lowering her eyelashes in a familiar tease. "That hasn't changed at all."

Derek laughed, and then looked at her walls again. "Did you know you have original crown molding in here?"

She wrinkled her nose, which caused him to laugh again.

"Sweetness, that's a _good_ thing. It's that fancy border you have on the top of your walls. Those curved markings on the top make me think they're originals."

She stared at the wall borders, not seeing any of the curving things. "Where?"

He pointed and said, "There."

"Still don't see it."

Derek leaned forward, looped his arm over her shoulder, and put his cheek along hers. "Look where I am looking..."

She looked up when his face tilted and saw the dainty scroll work she'd never noticed in her own home. It was fancy and quite beautiful, really.

The moment took her breath away. Not only because it was lovely, but because her best friend wasn't seeing flaws when he looked at her place...he was seeing _possibilities_.

"Penelope."

Derek immediately released her and stepped back as Kevin came in the room.

"K-Kevin," she said, smiling but feeling jittery. Seeing Derek again had her oddly breathless. Actually, it always had. Well, not so oddly...considering how gorgeous he looked! She calmed down. "We have crown molding."

"Use some bleach," he said, coming to kiss her cheek. "That ought to kill it."

She giggled, and Derek simply smiled at her. Now that she knew better, it was funny.

"Is he staying for supper?" Kevin asked, in a stage whisper.

Penelope glanced at Derek. "I was hoping so. I was hoping you'd stay the night? I have a guest bedroom."

"I'd love to."

Kevin frowned for a moment, and then said, "I'm going to the barn. Let me know when dinner is ready."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews and for favoriting and alerting. Nice to know so many of my familiar friends are following along!_

**Dinner and Memories**

Derek saw the smile on Penelope's face disappear as she watched her husband walk out the door. Her shoulders even sagged for a second—she'd always sucked at hiding her feelings—but then she was back to being her perky self.

She turned to look at him again with a smile that, try as she might, didn't quite mask the sadness in her eyes completely. "What would you like for dinner, Derek? You drove a really long distance to get here; you should get to choose what I make."

The urge—a bone deep longing—to pull her into his arms and hug away that look overcame him. He had to fight it, to resist the need to cuddle, kiss, and console her. She was a married woman now; that wasn't his job anymore.

Not that it ever really was.

Deep down in his heart, Derek knew that had been a huge problem in their seemingly perfect relationship over the past seven years. It was no surprise. He had been content having an emotionally intimate relationship without the sex, and doing that forever was not healthy.

Honestly, he hadn't really thought about having sex with her in over two years. He used to want to bang her every which way 'til Sunday in the early years of their friendship, but that urge had mellowed with time. Instead, they had been an opposite version of "friends with benefits," and he had been content with that. He'd found physical release with nameless, faceless women on a regular basis and shared his life and his heart with P.

That was why his heart shattered so terribly when she'd left. He could handle finding someone to fuck—that was incredibly easy—but finding someone who loved him—really, truly, wholeheartedly loved him—was so much harder.

And he was so in love with her.

He didn't want to ruin her marriage; he truly did not want to do that. He'd even stopped trying to break up her relationship after she'd celebrated her two year anniversary with Kevin. He'd known he had a place in her life and in her heart; he didn't need a place in her bed for his life to be complete. He'd dated other girls, and even talked about them with her. Hell, he'd even asked relationship advice from her!

He needed to keep things that way. So, instead of hugging her again, touching her, he told her in the plainest words the utmost truth to why he was there.

"Sweetness, I don't need fancy dinners, I don't need special attention, and I don't need thanks for coming," he said, feeling everything he had inside him well to the forefront. "All I need is you."

Penelope looked at him kind of oddly, and then she swallowed hard, like she was digesting a very bitter substance. It bothered him and made him wonder what he'd said that was wrong, but he didn't question it. He had a feeling it was a moment that was better without words.

"Well, then, I will make spaghetti," she answered, turning and hurrying into her little kitchen, leaving Derek to ponder the words that he'd said again.

* * *

><p>"O.M.G! He didn't!" Penelope squealed at the dinner table over a huge plate of spaghetti. Even though he'd said he didn't need it, she'd offered the fatted calf for Derek. "Rossi got engaged <em>again<em>?"

This was a blast. It was just like old times, chatting about the BAU and the team, laughing at the relationships, and cringing over the cases. He felt transported, like he was back at her place in Quantico, instead of an old farmhouse. If not for the occasional baaing of sheep, he would've completely forgotten where he was.

"Hell, yes. Some island girl he met on vacation in Trinidad." (*snicker*) Derek beamed a grin at her look of shock, and then took a bite of one of the homemade bread sticks she'd made. Damn, his girl could bake! He reached for another one, and bumped his hand into Kevin's left hand.

"Sorry," Lynch mumbled, but not before Derek saw the glittering gold band on his fourth finger.

He nearly choked on the bite he was chewing. He was doing it again. Not _his_ girl. She wasn't _his_ girl. She'd never be _his_ girl. Kevin sitting near her, Kevin holding her hand, and Kevin kissing her when he entered the room had reminded him of that, but his wedding band solidified it.

A nasty and deep envy, a jealousy like he hadn't felt in years, welled up inside Derek and rotted in his gut, burning and aching and churning.

It only lasted a second, before he was ashamed of himself. He wasn't a covetous man, and he wanted Penelope to be happy. He'd known something was off when he arrived, and he could tell she was homesick, but she'd never even come close to hinting she wanted to be done with Kevin.

Christ, he was sick, even thinking about stealing a married woman. He'd never sunk that low in his life. His momma didn't raise him to be that way.

He needed to include Lynch in the conversation and try to befriend the man. He'd tried in the past, but he'd had no commonalities with him. It was strange…P always said that Kevin was just like her.

"We are so similar, D!" she'd gushed on so many occasions. "He loves all the same things I do, and we can talk code and computer infrastructure on levels I've never been able to discuss before. He's so good!"

That had made Derek think he could be friends with Kevin. After all, he was best friends with P, and this was her male doppelganger.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

P was funny, giving, humble, and friendly. Kevin, on the other hand, truly lacked those qualities. His humor was funny only to other computer geeks. He'd get to telling a typical Lynch joke—"What do you call a bird that knows numbers and sings? A binary canary!"—and then he'd laugh like a hyena at his own damned joke, something that was a huge pet peeve to Derek.

And he was arrogant. A true "gatekeeper to the fount of knowledge." When he'd come to the BAU floor to visit Penelope, he'd looked down his nose at the other "less cerebral members of the FBI"…and then run like hell when Reid showed up.

Derek held back a chuckle—Now _that_ was funny!

No, Lynch wasn't a thing like Penelope. He knew part of his thinking was skewed because he cared for Penelope, too, and Kevin was competition…

He frowned again. Not was. Had been.

Kevin had won, hands down.

"Baby Boy, are you all right?" Penelope asked, looking across the table at him, concern written in her midnight blue eyes.

He needed to remember his purpose. Just because he missed her, just because she was gone, didn't mean he could drop the wall he'd built for so many years. He was okay with it before, being second place in Penelope's life; he could be okay again.

He took his water glass and had a big sip of it before replying, "Yeah, I'm just a little dry after that long drive."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews-A lit up inbox is a glorious thing!...Here comes another chapter..By the way, my working copies are labeled _Sheep1, Sheep2, etc_...Never thought I would "count sheep" while writing a story! (Terrible joke, I know)..._

**Laughter and Misunderstandings**

Penelope was seriously having a wonderful time reminiscing with Derek. She wished that Kevin would stop scowling and glowering. Luckily, he only did it when she was looking at him. It was his private way of showing his disdain, and she knew he was terribly unhappy about this situation.

She couldn't blame him completely. She'd known without asking he didn't want to have Morgan spend the night. He probably wanted D to be in the Fortune City Hotel in town, but she refused to let that happen when she had a huge house with lots of rooms. Sure, they weren't finished and were nothing fancy, but she would make something work, something nice, before they turned in for the night.

"So, Kevin," Derek said, turning to address her husband. "I spoke with Giles Harrington before I left. He told me to tell you hello, and that the Bond B system—"

"Bond A," Kevin interrupted, suddenly very interested in what Derek was saying.

Derek grinned. "Sorry, Bond _A_ system was working well still."

Sitting much straighter in his chair, Kevin replied, "Well, it should be. I put a lot of tireless effort into that filing system. It took many hours of work, and my blood, sweat, and tears, to create something so efficient and masterful."

Penelope nearly choked on her glass of wine. Kevin had put in a lot of work on that system, but it wasn't like he'd donated a kidney to get it up and running. He put in the work that all the other analysts would put into something like that. They were given projects to do on down times—that's what they did. She'd created face recognition software on the last one that she had done.

Inwardly, she cringed. Goodness. She used to always agree and say things like, _"Oh__, you poor baby! They are so lucky to have __you!"_ when he'd say things like that back in Quantico. Now...he just sounded like a braggart taking credit for nothing that unusual or important.

And poor Morgan was trying so hard to make polite conversation!

Derek stirred the pasta on his plate. "Well, Giles said it's a huge benefit."

"Naturally," Kevin said archly. "It was obvious genius in the design."

Penelope rolled her eyes. Reid was a certified, complete, tried and true genius, and he didn't gloat this much about his intelligence!

At the same time, she looked over at Derek. He was obviously stifling a laugh, which made her begin to giggle. He began to smile, which made her giggle more, and then soon, they were both laughing, hard.

As they laughed, Kevin looked confused. "What is so funny?"

That caused even more peals of laughter from them. There was no explaining it; she couldn't help it.

"Penny?" he asked, looking at her.

"It's...oh...haha...it's your look," she said, gasping for air as she chuckled.

Derek tried to calm down, but they looked at each other and just started laughing again, like old and dear friends, the best of pals. It was true, joyful laughter, which caused tears to roll down her face and her stomach to ache. God, it had been so long since she'd laughed like that!

"Well," Kevin said, standing up and tossing his cloth napkin on his plate, "since I am quite obviously the butt of this ridiculous private joke, I am going to bed."

Penelope calmed down almost completely. "No, Kevin, wait—"

But it was already too late; Kevin had left the room and headed up the staircase to their bedroom.

Suddenly, all levity and joy felt drained from the room. Her heart ached, and she felt terribly sad. She hadn't meant to hurt Kevin; it wasn't his fault she had a case of the giggles.

Derek was somber, too, when Penelope looked back at him.

"P, you should go to him," he said, putting his napkin on his plate. "I've really overstayed my welcome. I'll go—"

Panic rose in Penelope. She stood and reached over the table, grasping his arm. "No!"

He smiled at her and patted her arm. "Garcia, I'm just going to the hotel for the night. I'll be back tomorrow."

Relief swept over her as quickly as the panic and dread had come. For a moment, her heart had stopped and ached so badly, she couldn't breathe. She didn't realize how badly she needed Derek there until that moment. The idea of him leaving her was too much to bear.

She blinked away tears, and then wiped away what escaped from the corners of her eyes. "Don't be silly. I have lots of room."

"Baby Girl," he said, using her old nickname for the first time since they reunited. It felt so good to hear it, like magic and Christmas rolled into one. "I've already raised hell for you tonight, I—"

"Please," she begged, holding his arm tighter. The tears fell again, but she didn't care.

Derek held her hand in between his, and then brought it up to his mouth to give it a kiss. "I'll stay."

* * *

><p>Derek went to get his bags from his rental—a teeny, tiny little automobile he must've squashed himself into—and then came back to the house. She showed him where the bathroom was, and then showed him the guest room.<p>

"This is it," she said.

It was a quaint little room. It was the first room she'd refurbished. It wasn't much—a new coat of paint, a little area rug on the clean wood floor, and a full bed with a handmade quilt—but it was homey. She believed strongly in guests being welcomed and having the best.

"It's nice," he said with a smile. He arched a brow at her. "Had a lot of guests?"

"Kevin's brother Maxwell came, and his mom and dad, and one of his friends from Virginia Tech," she said.

"Not your brothers or anyone?" he asked.

She shook her head. She hadn't had anyone come, or even really inquire about her, since they'd moved to Wyoming. No one but Derek.

That thought always made her feel kind of sad, which she really didn't want to be feeling. She had her best friend in the whole world here; she was going to have fun with him!

After he rested. He looked damned tired. As if to punctuate her thoughts with truth, he stifled a yawn into his fist.

"Well, I suppose I should let you catch up on sleep," she said. "It was a really long drive."

"No, no, I'm—" he yawned again "—fine."

She began to giggle again. "You're a terrible liar."

"I feel like I am a four year old, begging my momma to let me stay up," he teased.

Smiling, she said, "This momma says you need to go to bed."

Pouting exaggeratedly, he said, "You're no fun."

"Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite."

He grinned. "I didn't take this for that kind of establishment!"

"Hey!" she teased, shoving him.

A second later, he grabbed that arm and pulled her into his embrace. He held her close in a fierce hug, and then kissed the top of her head.

"Goodnight, P," he said, before releasing her slowly, and then shutting the door.

For a long moment, she stood there, smiling wistfully at the closed door. She wished they could talk the whole night like they used to...but she couldn't. She had a husband she had to make things better with now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_AN: Surprise! Posting another chapter...I'm a little early and I haven't answered reviews yet, but I promise to get to them soon. _

**Clearing and Clouding the Air**

As Penelope began walking up the stairs, she tried to sort out how she felt. It wasn't an easy task; she was feeling a lot of things right now—things that she'd started feeling long before Derek arrived in her house.

She knew Kevin was upset, and she felt bad about that. She didn't want to hurt him. She loved Kevin and knew he didn't want to hurt her any more than she wanted to hurt him. They were good to each other, and since they'd moved to Fortune City, they'd learned to rely a lot more on each other, to lean on each other in times of trouble.

She paused on the step. Kevin leaned a little bit harder than she did most of the time.

She didn't know why she'd expected anything different; she had always known Kevin was not the kind to lead and be a hero. She wore the pants in their relationship, and she liked it that way. She loved having control.

But Kevin had painted a beautiful picture, one of relaxation and leisure. One that said she wouldn't have to see blood and gore and death anymore. One where she could let others save the day, instead of herself. He'd said it with hopeful dreams and stars in his eyes, and had promised to take care of her.

So for once, she'd thrown caution to the wind and put herself in his hands. Less than a week later, she was the one making the decisions, fixing problem after problem...but she still had love.

She did love Kevin. She wasn't as infatuated with him anymore, and his cute little boy act wasn't as cute, but she did love him.

When they left Quantico, she'd had such a store of dreams. A house, not too unlike this in theory, a yard very similar to theirs, and a child. Now, between the lead in the peeling paint of this house and the lack of funds, she didn't dare bring a baby into the picture.

By the time she reached the top step, she'd thought about earlier today. Derek had parroted the same words Kevin had said that had prompted her leaving Quantico.

"_All I need is you."_

For some reason, Derek's words moved her so much more. Maybe because she knew Derek wanted her and only her. Just her friendship, her smile, her ability to laugh.

Kevin wanted her for her ability to take care of him, to lead when she needed to, and to make decisions...oh, _a__nd_because of her smile and ability to laugh. A_ll I need is you...to figure out the bills, fix my allergy problems, and work out __solutions, because__ I don't know a damned thing about sheep farming._

She sighed heavily. She was angry. Really, really angry, and she needed to let that go. It wasn't worth losing her marriage over her anger. Kevin hadn't changed; he was the same man she'd always known. She'd made the bad decisions. She'd allowed herself to get swept up in an Quixotic impossible dream. She just needed to get it together and deal.

Taking just a moment more, she opened the door and saw Kevin sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked completely and totally heartbroken. His large brown eyes behind his black rimmed glasses were hurt and angry.

Sighing again, she stood by him. "Kevin..."

"Well. You finally got a moment away from Agent Morgan?"

His tone was so snappy and fierce, she knew this was going to be a long fight.

"Kevin," she began patiently, "I haven't talked to anyone from Quantico in seven months, besides a letter or two from Hotch."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Shows how much they really cared, doesn't it?"

Every once in awhile, Kevin fought to win, and he must've chosen that moment to do so. She felt those words like an arrow in her chest. Kevin hadn't seen her expression. He'd turned away and looked out the window.

"Some _family_ you had," he muttered, obviously still angry.

She could feel her heart slowly breaking, and her stomach beginning to churn. She'd been sad about the lack of conversation from them, the whole lack of contact, and she'd told Kevin. He knew it hurt, very badly.

He looked at her then, and immediately looked remorseful. His face crumpled. "Penny, I'm so sorry."

He opened his arms to her, and she went into them. "I'm sorry, too, Kevin."

"I reacted poorly when you both started laughing at me," he said, holding her tight. "I've never had the best self esteem, Penny. I always had to fight for the respect due me. Always. Tonight...I snapped. I never thought I'd be a laughingstock in my _own house_."

She looked up at him. "Oh, Kevin! We weren't laughing at you. It was just something Derek and I did together. We always laughed like that. It had nothing to do with you."

He pouted at her, and it was a real pout, not a teasing one like Derek had done earlier. It made him look very young and uncertain. "For real?"

She nodded. "Of course. You know I wouldn't hurt you."

He sniffled and went to wipe his nose on his sleeve, but then reached for the Kleenex® right after. "I know."

Penelope smiled a little. "It really feels nice having Derek here."

"I don't like it."

She frowned. "Kevin, Derek is just a friend..."

"A really muscly friend."

"My best friend."

"A girl magnet friend."

Penelope could feel her anger rising again. It used to be cute, his jealous tantrums over Derek, but it had been years they'd been together, and now they were married. He needed to trust in her, believe in her, and let her have her friends.

"Kevin, there is no reason for you to be jealous of Derek," she said flatly.

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are." She shook her head. "Really—"

"Well, can you blame me?" he asked, snapping at her again. "For six years, I watched while he put his arm around you, lead you places, and went on all sorts of pseudo dates with you. For six years, the other tech men teased me about 'Agent Morgan' and his 'Baby Girl'."

He paused to make air quotes.

She stared at him. She really didn't have any idea he was that upset about her friendship. "Kevin, it wasn't—"

"I know that!" he snapped again. "I know you'd never cheat...but everyone else didn't." He laughed bitterly. "That is what made me the laughingstock there, Penelope. I knew you loved me, I knew you were true to me...and always would be...but..."

He sat there, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

She put her arm around him and gave him a squeeze. "I'm sorry. But I'm your wife, and I love you."

Kevin looked at her and said softly, "He knew, Penelope."

"What?"

"Morgan. He knew people thought that way, and he let them think it," Kevin said bitterly. "It's why I never liked him, and it's why I have a hard time even looking at him."

She shook her head, even as he talked. "I can't believe Derek—"

"Fine," he snipped, his mouth becoming a thin line. "Take his side again."

"No, honey," she said, completely confused and upset. "I just know Derek, and he would never—"

"Why do you think he never wanted me around? Why do you think he never wanted to be my friend, after all these years?" he asked, turning his hurt eyes at her again. "He let everyone believe you were lovers on and off."

She sat there, digesting this information, her head spinning. If he did...if he did...Derek wasn't the friend she always thought he was.

P's heart was broken. Did Derek sabotage her relationship behind her back by letting people think they were sleeping together? Did he let everyone think she was a whore? She couldn't believe that...

"Penny, I can't blame him," Kevin said, smiling at her, cupping her chin in his hand. "You are one wonderful woman. I can see why he'd want you."

It was ridiculous. She _knew_ Morgan. He would never...

"Oh, Penny," Kevin whispered by her ear, interrupting her thoughts with a sing song tone he thought was seductive, "the night is made for loooove..."

Penelope smiled in return, but it didn't meet her eyes, as Kevin leaned in and began to kiss her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews...Please bear with me, folks...This gets exponentially better between MG...but right now, she's Mrs. Lynch...Highlighting poor Derek's thoughts here..(PS. I can't believe I went there, either!)..._

**Pondering and Pooh**

Derek couldn't sleep.

As tired as he was, he knew that he couldn't lay back, close his eyes, and actually give in to blessed dreamland. It had nothing to do with the slightly too soft mattress, or the remaining heat from the day in the eastern exposure bedroom. He had far too many questions roiling in his head, too many emotions brought to the forefront.

After he'd held Penelope, he'd taken a seat on the edge of the bed and run a hand over his face, and that was where he'd remained for a long time. He knew he shouldn't have done it, shouldn't have held her so tightly, because he knew he'd do something tonight when he finally did sleep.

He'd dream about her.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd dreamed about her since she'd left for the farm. In the beginning, it was once in a while, but now, it happened on a pretty regular basis. When he'd had an incredibly bad day at the BAU, he'd take a look at her picture—one she'd snapped and framed of herself—and wish she was there to talk to. In his dreams, she was there, just like she'd never left. He'd hug her, too, hold on to her...and wake up holding his pillow.

He would also wake mad as hell, but not at her—never at her. He was mad at himself for being fanciful. He'd never believed in fairy tales or any of that crap. He was a man of action, who got things done by doing, not dreaming.

"Damn, Morgan, knock it off," he cursed himself, and stood, walking over to the window in the room.

He opened it and welcomed the fresh air...and a lingering smell of sheep dung. He chuckled and shook his head—farm livin' was not for him!—and attempted to shut the window, but failed. It was stuck.

Derek frowned and took a good look at it. Judging from the look of the glass and the woodwork, and even the latchings, the windows were probably originals. Peering up inside the pane, and then working his fingers near the edge, he saw and felt sash cord openers. The cord had probably fallen off the roller at the top—a really simple fix he could do tomorrow, if P wanted him to.

He sat back on the bed again, still frowning quizzically. That was one of the many things that bothered him. He kept milling so many things in his head. Like all the little fixes he kept seeing in the kitchen, dining room, and now this room. Why hadn't Lynch taken care of those? They were miniscule, quick, and easy things to hammer out that would cost zero dollars.

Derek couldn't help it. He fixed houses, had done real estate jobs for years now as a hobby. Everyone knew that if you bought a house like this, it was going to take some elbow grease and determination to bring it up to snuff.

Overall, this was really a gorgeous house, one that he would've bought if he moved out to Wyoming. It was stunning and would be a nice place to raise kids, once it was up to code. It was a roller's dream—one that could be fixed up and sold for a song in comparison to what it was purchased for. It was a lot of work, but it could be done.

Now that he was _retired_, Lynch should have that time.

He thought about Penelope's look, how she'd looked almost embarrassed at the rooms she'd shown him. That had broken his heart. He would never think anything Penelope had was second rate. She was a class act, she kept a clean, charmingly decorated home, but she wasn't handy with a hammer and a saw. That wasn't her niche.

Apparently, it wasn't Kevin's niche, either.

Why the hell would he move her out here if he couldn't take care of her and fix it up the way she deserved it to be?

"_Kevin found us a great place. It's a hobby farm with lambies, just like he'd promised," she gushed to him over the phone while she was outside at a rest stop at the beginning of her trip to Wyoming._

"_Sounds...fantastic, baby."_

_Her excitement was palpable; he knew she was all in then. He didn't even try to stop her._

"_It's glorious, open acreage, and Kevin knows some farm work from his family out west."_

_He tried to sound upbeat and supportive, when his heart was beating sluggishly. "Really?"_

"_He has a little fix-it know all and said he's itching to go," she said with a giggle. "Sound like a country girl already, Hot Stuff?"_

"_Yeah, you do, angel," he said, swallowing a knot down in his stomach. "Take care of yourself, country girl...I'm going to miss you."_

"_What, D? I can—"_

That was the last time he'd talked to her. The phone had too much static, and she'd lost her connection.

Now, looking around, Derek didn't see anything Lynch had taken care of in this house. P deserved better, and he realized he was angry about it. Not only at Lynch, but at himself.

He should've come earlier and seen how she was living. He should've swallowed his pride and hopped the plane, and then drove those miles to see her. But he'd been so hurt that she hadn't called, so hurt that she hadn't answered one of his many letters, and down right pissed that he was hurting over her lack of response in the first place.

Tugging his shirt over his head and stripping down to his black Calvin Klein boxers, he lay down in the bed and covered up. He shut off the little kitschy lamp next to his bed and stared at the ceiling.

There were plaster cracks there, too, that could be easily fixed.

Rolling to his side, he punched his pillow. He needed to stop this. It wasn't his job to come and fix Penelope's house. He wasn't her husband; Lynch was. It wasn't his job to take care of her anymore.

But God, he wanted to.

Lynch, in his mind, was doing a poor job of it. Not only that, Kevin seemed positively irate that he'd come to visit at all. Derek had wanted to break that little fucker's finger when he'd flipped him the bird earlier. He'd been glad Penelope hadn't noticed; she would've been embarrassed by her husband's uncouth behavior. Fucking know it all geek, pushing his glasses with the middle finger and tapping, glaring at him at the same time. What the hell?

He'd tried hard to converse with him, too, and got that same pompous windbag attitude. Any person who had to try that hard to appear smart or cool was a wannabe of the worst nature in his book. That wasn't someone he liked spending time with, and he'd be perfectly happy never to see him again...

If only his best friend wasn't married to him.

He wondered about their marriage. The whole "fix me supper" thing had rubbed him the wrong way. It seemed superior to him, like Lynch was ordering P about. He just couldn't picture Kevin wearing the pants in this family, or Pen kowtowing to him. She'd been the feisty, controlling, sexy momma he'd always known her as back in Quantico, and she'd seemed to lead Kevin around by his _cahones_ most of the time...unless he pouted. Due to P's soft nature, Kevin got his way when he pouted.

And what was with all of Lynch's relatives visiting and none of Pen's? That didn't make any sense either.

Penelope deserved better. She always had, and he'd—

_Fuck._

Derek grumbled and lay on his back again. He was starting to get really, really grumpy. It wasn't his position to think that anymore. She was married, damn it. So, she'd looked unhappy a few times today. Married couples fought. They'd probably make up soon, and—

Suddenly, Derek heard the rhythmic thumping and creaking of the floor. He frowned...and then he realized what it was.

It seemed things were _fine_ after all.

He gave an offbeat chuckle at his terrible luck. He was still sore from the long car ride, his head ached from being overtired, the smell of shit permeated his nostrils and felt like it coated his tongue. Add to that the sound of hot Lynch sex above him, and he was seriously the most unlucky man alive.

Tomorrow, he'd hang with his best friend...and then he'd get a room at the hotel.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

AN: Thanks for the reviews...I was a little worried about that last chapter (Poor D! Ick!)...Here comes more...

**Breakfast and New Beginnings**

Penelope was in the kitchen making breakfast when Derek came through the doorway. He was smiling and was dressed in a pair of long jean shorts with loops on them and a dark t-shirt with some fancy brand name silk-screened on the front.

"Bonjour, mon ami," she said with a beaming grin for him.

"Morning, baby," he answered, both words and grin. "Speaking those hot French words to me again, huh?"

"Seemed fitting," she said, pointing to the covered pan on the stove, "considering we are having French cuisine." She lifted the lid with a flourish. "_Voila_! French toast!"

He chucked. "What I'd really like is some of that French brew..._café_. You got that, momma?" As if to emphasize the point, he yawned into his fist.

"Already brewing."

"You're a lifesaver," he said with a beaming grin, reaching out to hold her shoulders.

He leaned down, like he was going to kiss her cheek, but then it was like he stopped himself. He pulled away rather quickly.

She frowned up at him as he released her shoulders. That was strange; they'd always been very touchy feely with one another. It was their natural way. In fact, she'd hugged him far more than she'd hugged Kevin back at the BAU. They'd been inseparable.

Was he angry at her?

She thought about it, her heart feeling achy and sore. He hadn't seemed mad at her. In fact, he'd seemed overjoyed to see her—just like she was so happy to see him. Kevin was standoffish like that when he was upset; he'd gone an entire week not speaking to her one time.

"Where are the mugs, Garc—" He paused, and then chucked a bit. "Sorry. I should say Lynch, shouldn't I?"

For some reason, even though he'd laughed and had been teasing, she still felt very sad. Now, she understood the difference in what Derek was feeling and how he was acting.

He was right, too. It was different.

She walked over to him, removed a mug, and poured him a cup. "Derek...I'm still Garcia, too. That didn't change."

He accepted the cup, but he didn't say a thing. Instead, he smiled at her. Although he tried to hide it, his smile was a touch wistful. Derek held his emotions in check; only she would notice that lapse.

She couldn't have him feeling wistful and sad. He was here, he was making her day—her year, actually—by being there. She needed to get him feeling comfortable again, so he knew how loved and appreciated he was and how grateful she was that he was here.

She smiled back and patted his cheek. "Take a seat; I'll bring you some breakfast."

Derek turned and took his seat. He took a big sip of the hot brew, and then said, "This is just what I needed. Thank you."

"Sleep okay?"

"Yeah."

She gave him the hairy eyeball. "Derek Morgan, you just lied to me. What was wrong?"

Arching his brow at her, he remarked, "No pulling any _wool_ over your eyes, now that you are a sheep farmer, huh?"

Making a tsking sound, she said, "You never could before I farmed, either, Morgan. Spill. What was wrong?"

"Different bed, long trip..." He paused and grinned at her. "Too excited to see my best friend to sleep. Like waiting for Santa."

"Aww," she said, putting her plate down and his. "That was sweet!"

Smiling devilishly at her, he added, "Besides, the window was stuck open...I was cold."

She tried to move his plate away.

"Hey!"

Releasing the plate, she said, "Be nice."

"It was your window," he said, cutting into the toast.

The corner of her mouth quirked, and she looked regretful. "I know. I forgot to warn you about the windows last night. They're old, and that one has been a problem since day one."

"Why hasn't Kevin just fixed it?"

She bit into her toast before answering. "Kevin said we need to replace all of those windows, and we can't quite afford that right now."

She was telling a half truth there herself. They'd probably never be able to afford new windows. There were a lot more important things to fix before the windows—like the furnace before winter.

Derek took another slug of coffee. "Nonsense. That is a five minute fix. The window is fine; it just has a hanging sash cord."

She knew she was looking at him blankly. "A what?"

He laughed. "After breakfast, I'll show you, and we'll fix it, if you want."

"Oh! That would be great," she said, so excited she could dance. The windows in the house were the bane of her existence. A temperate climate in a home should be a given. They did have nice breezes in their area; she'd sat on the porch many times and enjoyed them.

They ate in silence for a moment, and he was frowning again…just a little. She didn't know what she'd said or done to make him frown.

That bothered her far more than he'd ever know. The same thing happened after she'd left Quantico. She'd mailed letter after letter, and he'd never sent one back. She'd known it would be hard on him and that he wouldn't be happy that she'd left—they had been very close—but it seemed patently unfair and unlike him to cut off all contact with her.

After dwelling on it, she'd sent a rather snippy final letter last month to the entire BAU team, instead of individuals like she'd done before. She'd gotten back so few letters, she wasn't making them personal anymore. She didn't understand them. Snail mail was a pain, but it wasn't that hard.

She'd said, "_It would be nice if one of you stopped by if you get a case out west. I know Cooper's team takes those usually, but if you do, I'd like to see your handsome and gorgeous __pusses so this__ goddess __knows you__ are all still alive!"_

She'd felt bad after sending it; she'd been very angry. But it all worked out. That letter had finally gotten him here.

"So, you and Lynch made up last night."

She nodded, although it was a statement, not a question. "Yeah...how did...?"

He arched a brow at her, and she knew her face turned scarlet as she realized exactly what he'd heard.

"Oh, my God, Derek," she whispered, not knowing what to say. "I'm so sorry, I—"

He began to grin at her. "Hey! No reason to be sorry."

"Well...umm...well..." she blurted, stumbling over her words.

"Woman, settle. It's no big deal," he said, taking another sip of his coffee.

She started to calm down a little, when he added, "Besides, it only lasted about five minutes."

That brought the blush back full force. She slapped his arm. "Morgan!"

"Honey, I'm teasing you," he said, still smiling. "Move out to Wyoming, and you lose your sense of humor."

She grinned at him. He was one of a kind.

They were both done with breakfast, so he wiped his mouth on his napkin and stood up. "Come on. Let's go fix a window."

She stood up, too. "What do we need to fix it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know...some finishing nails, maybe. A bit of thinner for the paint. Got that?"

She shook her head. They didn't have many repair things, besides a hammer.

"Okay...let's go to town for the hardware store, and then we'll fix a window."

"Cool beans." She grinned and looped her arm around his waist before he could step away. "New people are rare in this town, and I'd love to show you off."

She could almost feel the hesitance in his body, before he finally gave up and slid his arm around her shoulders. "Sure, baby. Let's go."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. Surprise! Posting another one today...I promise I'll get to reviews soon...I needed to get this out for pacing..._

**Fixing Brakes and Breaks**

Derek couldn't help smiling at Fortune City, Wyoming. It was about as small town, adorable American as he could imagine, like something Norman Rockwell would've painted. There was a drug store on the right hand side of the appropriately named Main Street, with a soda fountain in the back, and a small combination hardware and grocery store. A tiny café, a gas station/auto repair, a VFW, and a funeral parlor completed the scene.

"What are you grinning for?" Penelope asked, as she pulled her ancient pickup truck into the parallel parking down the street.

He'd never taken Penelope to be a pickup-type girl, but she was the kind that would own one that needed repair. Back in Quantico, he'd had to check her oil and tire pressure on Esther because she'd forget to do it. She didn't handle this truck very well, either. Instead of coming up to park, she rammed into the curb rather quickly.

"Whoa," he said, bracing himself with both hands on the dashboard when they came to the jolting stop.

She grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. Bad brakes."

"I heard the grinding sound," he said. "You need new pads, or pads and rotors?"

She simply gave him a blank look, proving that he was right about the auto repair thing. "I don't really know. I think just the pads."

"How long have they been making that grinding sound?"

"I don't remember," she said with a shrug. "A little over a month."

Derek was appalled. "A month?"

That was far too long. It was dangerous to ride the brakes on a truck that long without changing them. No wonder she couldn't stop!

She colored slightly, like she was embarrassed. "Well…a little longer, actually. Kevin bought a book and was going to change the pads last month, but he's been really busy."

He didn't give a damn how busy he was. What the fuck was Lynch thinking? He should_ never _be too busy that he willingly risked Penelope's life.

"Baby, that's dangerous," he said, and he knew he was frowning. "Why didn't you just bring it in to a shop?"

"I did," she said, and then bit her bottom lip uncomfortably. "Harvey, the mechanic in town, told me I had very thin pads and needed them changed ASAP. I told Kevin, who said they were out to get money and always said that kind of thing."

"Sometimes that's true," Derek said. There were a lot of unscrupulous people in different businesses; maybe Lynch knew something about this Harvey that Derek didn't?

"Well, he quoted me four hundred, and Kevin said he could do it and it would cost a lot less."

This time, Derek stared at her. Four hundred was a pretty good price for the only mechanic in Fortune City. He could have charged a whole lot more for his work. Derek was guessing that there weren't a whole lot of other mechanics in the area!

Either way, Kevin should've fixed those brakes ASAP. Derek had to bite back the urge to kick Kevin's ass yet again. Now that she'd worn them down to the growling, grinding sound that they were emitting, there was no way she hadn't damaged her rotors. The repair would be closer to a thousand and a lot more difficult to do. He had a feeling Kevin had no idea how to fix rotors, either.

Immediately, one thought popped into Derek's mind...

He did.

Still, he needed to ask before he interjected himself into something Lynch was supposed to do again. He didn't want that little prick mad at him; that would only cause more trouble for Penelope.

He began cautiously. "Baby, did Kevin even read that manual yet?"

She bit her lip again. It broke Derek's heart to see her chewing on that full bottom lip of hers like that. She'd only done that when she was involved in a case that really stressed her out at the BAU, and he'd seen her do it often here in Wyoming.

Hadn't she said she'd come to the country to get away from stress?

She shook her head then. "He wasn't going to read it. He was going to let it guide him step-by step. Sort of like a _Pascal Based Linear System for Dummies _approach."

Derek closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Only Lynch would follow a diagram with a four ton vehicle poised above him! He was going to get himself killed. Not that the world would suffer a huge loss, but it would hurt Penelope, and Derek didn't want that.

"Sweetheart, the windows are going to have to wait," he said softly. "Let's go talk to Harvey and see what we can get for brake parts."

He paused as they exited the truck. Penelope came over to stand by his side, and they began to stroll down the street.

He couldn't help it; he raised an eyebrow. "I take it Lynch didn't get parts yet?" He'd said the words with a lot of irritation he simply couldn't hide anymore.

Penelope's lips thinned defensively as she explained, "Derek, Kevin _is_ trying his best."

He was disgusted with the other man; there was a lot of sarcasm in his voice when he said, "Really."

"Yes," she said, and he saw that she was frowning. She stopped in her tracks and put her hands on her hips. "This is new to us. We are trying."

Derek could see Penelope trying—the neat house, the cozy decorations, and the well-tended gardens bespoke of that fact—but he didn't see Kevin's work. He bit his tongue; he'd only been there less than twenty-four hours. He couldn't completely comment on that.

She sighed heavily and looked up at him. "This was more than we expected. Everything was much more of a _fix it up_ than we thought it would be."

"Didn't Lynch check it out before he moved you here?"

Her lips thinned again, but her eyes watered. "Derek. _I _made my own choice to move here with my husband. He didn't _move_ me here—I _chose_ to go."

That hit Derek like a ton of bricks. It reminded him of the number one thing he'd been trying to remember, something his heart wanted to forget desperately. It wasn't his place to take care of Penelope anymore. It had never been his place.

And then he remembered his pledge in Alaska about watching after her: "I'm gonna stay on the job a little while longer…for the rest of my life."

His stomach roiled, knowing he should really back off, but he couldn't do it. No more than he could stop loving her.

He put on a grin and said, "Sorry, angel. I know better. You're a strong woman—ain't nobody gonna talk you into anything. Forgive me?"

He saw her wipe tears of anger and frustration. "Derek, I'm sorry. I know you're just trying to help, but I'm just so overwhelmed."

"No, I was out of line," he said.

"No—"

"Okay," he said, his eyes twinkling. He put an arm around her. "You can be more wrong. Let's go."

She frowned for a second, and then she smiled. He felt her lean more into his side, like she craved his support. Despite what his head warned him, he held her close and felt what was pulled apart in his chest knit together just a bit more.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_AN: Thanks for all the reviews...Some of you have what's happening figured out! Go, reviewers, go!..._

**Fixin' things up**

After they'd semi-argued, they finally made it to Collins' Mechanical. Harvey Collins, the proprietor, was hard to judge, because he seemed to lack all emotion—except gruffness. Penelope hadn't liked him when she'd first met him; he'd been nice to her, but he'd grumbled and growled at Kevin.

"That man is a swindler!" Kevin had said, leaving mid argument and stomping out to the truck. "I refuse to be cheated."

"He's the only mechanic in a hundred mile radius, Kevin," she'd pleaded. "We have to talk to him."

"No, we do not." From the set of his chin, she knew he meant business. "I will do them."

"Honey, you don't know how to fix brakes!"

"Don't worry, dearest," he'd said, patting her knee with that hopeful smile he got often. "I'll look in a book. Brakes are not that difficult. I have a relative who does them often, and if she can do it, I can."

Of course, that lead to where she was now. She felt awful for the way they'd left last time—with animosity. It made her nervous to walk into the shop. How would he treat her...or Derek?

Immediately, the enormous, burly man began to size up his customers, his hairy forearms crossed over his barrel-chest. "What can I do for you?"

"Hi, there," Derek said, just a hint of a smile on his lips. "We're having some brake trouble. I need to purchase a set of pads and some rotors, a set of calipers…oh, and she could use some new wiper blades, too."

The man began to smile at Derek. "Sounds like you know your trucks."

"Been fixing them up for years," he said with a grin of his own. "I taught my cousins house repairs; they helped me rebuild a T-bird."

"Nice car."

"You know it. Derek Morgan." He extended his hand, which the other man accepted in a greasy handed grip.

"Harvey Collins." The man paused for a moment. "That's dangerous work to do if you don't know what you're doing."

Derek nodded back with a serious look. "Damn straight. Safety first."

"Come back here…I'll show you the parts," Harvey said, clapping Derek's shoulder. "You got a lift or jacks out at the old Oleson place?"

Derek chuckled. "I haven't a clue."

"Tell you what," Harvey said. "I'm behind on my orders today. You help me turn them rotors on that old Cadillac over there and that old Chevy out yonder, and I'll let you use my lift."

Derek beamed back at him. "Sounds like a plan."

* * *

><p>Penelope was now the proud owner of a very nice set of brakes, and she'd only had to pay for parts. Derek had done most of the work. While the truck had been up on the lift, Derek had changed the oil and rotated the tires, too. Always wanting to learn, she'd helped out, too, although she had a feeling both Derek and Harvey hadn't been letting her get the full picture of how hard the job was.<p>

Derek's salmon colored designer t-shirt was covered in grease stains, but he hadn't seemed to care. Harvey had offered her a set of coveralls, which she'd gratefully accepted, but by the end of the day, it hadn't really mattered. Even her hair had splashes of grease and grime.

It was late in the evening now. The work had taken the majority of the day, but it had been enjoyable, and _Esther __2_—as she now called the truck—was running like a dream. Even Harvey had helped Derek out with some of the bigger repairs, and he'd chatted with both of them like they were old friends.

It had been one of the best days she'd had since moving to Wyoming.

When it came time to go home, she'd disrobed from the coveralls and Derek had washed his hands with some goopy looking soap with grit in it. He turned and smiled at her.

"Ready to go home, little grease monkey?" he asked with a wink.

"Oh, yes," she said, and then she yawned.

The corner of his mouth shot up and his brows shot down in a questioning look. "Hmm…I was going to take you for ice cream, but if you're too tired…"

"No!" she cried, suddenly wide awake. She had a few weaknesses in life, and Derek, unfortunately, knew most of them.

He slung his arm around her shoulders. "Think they've got Chunky Monkey?"

"No, lover boy," she said, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. "They've got homemade ice cream that is even better."

"Even better than Ben and Jerry's?" he asked, positively incredulous. "That's sacrilege, sugar."

"You'll see."

* * *

><p>Leaning against the front of the truck outside of the drug store called <em>The Apothecary Shoppe<em>, Penelope licked a path up the side of a deep chocolate cone. The chocolate was wonderful; it made her eyes water, it was so perfect. Derek was eating a butter brickle cone with a similar look of bliss on his face.

They both had triple scoops.

"This is a very healthy dinner," Derek mused, but he was smiling, so it lost any claims to seriousness.

She nodded. "Quite."

He licked around where a spot was melting, very quickly, like he would be damned to let a drop hit the ground.

"I was right, wasn't I?" she asked, a _know it all_ smile on her face.

He sighed in defeat. "Yes, sweet girl. You were right."

She giggled gleefully, but didn't say a word, as she continued to lick her cone.

A long moment—about the time it took to eat two scoops—later, he said, "Bad ass."

That caused her to giggle more. She was a bad ass, rubbing it in. She loved to do that.

She yawned again, the bone tired weariness finally catching up with her. "Oh, man. I must've worked harder than I thought today."

"You did," he said, as he ate the last bite of his cone. "And I should get you home."

She looked at the remaining cone that she had and took one more lick. "I'm done, too, I think."

"Don't waste," he said, taking the cone. He gobbled it down in two bites.

She smiled at him. "Thanks."

"Here," he said, standing in front of her. "You got some grease…and ice cream…on your face."

"Oh," she said, standing stock still. She closed her eyes as he removed her glasses and hooked them on his shirt.

She was surrounded by intoxicating scents. She could smell the lingering traces of grease that clung to his skin, the slight chocolate scent on his warm breath, the woodsy, clean essence of his soap and cologne, and the sweat of a hard day's work. It was a heady combination, and it was making it hard for her to focus.

Gently, delicately, he began to clean the side of her face, tucking a strand of her badly needing to be colored hair behind her ear. He treated her reverently with his touch; she felt almost fragile in his care.

It had been a long time since she'd felt that cherished.

"There you go," he said, sliding the glasses back on her face. His voice was a low purr that caused an eruption of goose bumps on her arms.

She stared into his eyes and swallowed a lump at the dark emotion she saw there. There was love, warmth, pride, friendship. There was so much there, fathomless pools of emotion she could lose herself in. It was the same look he'd had when he'd said _All I need is you_.

"Th-Thank you," she said, her full heart confused and sore.

He smiled then and took a step away from her. "Let's get you home."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

_AN: Surprise! Another chapter, to keep pace before season seven starts...Whoo hoo! Can't wait!...Thanks so much for reviews-They warm my heart and make me smile, and give me much needed validation!...I promise to answer soon, but I know you'll understand- it is midnight here, and my Derek is waiting for me..._

**Answers and Questions**

They slowly made their way back into the truck to head back home. Well, to bring Penelope home, at least. He'd forgotten to check into where a hotel was to stay for the night. There wasn't one in town, and he had no idea where the nearest motel was located. Still, he planned on leaving. He couldn't take another night like last night; he wasn't a total masochist!

"Hey, Derek! Catch."

He turned just as she tossed the keys to him.

Giving her a questioning look, he asked, "What's this for?"

Smiling, she said, "You did most of the work on Esther 2; you should get to drive her this first ride home."

He was about to protest, but then she yawned. It was her fifth yawn—at least. Her huge, drowsy eyes still looked happy, but so very sleepy, like a gorgeous raccoon. He'd drive; he didn't want her to fall asleep on the road.

"Okay, sugar, you win," he said as he opened her door first.

They hadn't bothered to lock the truck. He'd never been in a city so small that he could leave a car unlocked and leave the keys in the ignition. Fortune City was that small.

The old truck had a huge bench seat in the cab. Penelope had it pulled up pretty far; when he'd first sat down next to her, his knees had been less than an inch from the dash. After he climbed in, he moved the seat back so that he could be comfortable.

He really liked the old copper colored truck. It was the same shade Esther had been. She'd told him that was the reason she bought that big truck; in a way, it had reminded her of Esther...and home.

Penelope hadn't wanted a truck—"Energy wasting, gas guzzling monstrosities"—but she said that they needed it on the farm. Kevin had insisted that they needed a truck to do the hauling, moving, and pulling at the farm. That was the first thing he'd heard Kevin say that he'd agreed upon. Otherwise, as far as he could see, the man was a walking disaster when it came to farm decisions.

He knew he shouldn't pry, but he needed to know more about this situation. After spending today fixing Penelope's ticking time bomb of a truck, he was starting to worry about what other horrors could befall her. Was the electric up to code? That could be a fire hazard with a house as old and as dry as Penelope's. What was the gas line like, and the furnace?

Harvey had been a wealth of knowledge, too...

"_Surprised me to no end someone finally bought the old Oleson place. Place stood dormant for fifteen years. We thought it would just collapse one day."_

"_Why didn't you tear it down?"_

"_There were nesting spots in the attic for all sorts of game, so that was okay by us." Harvey grinned. "__Plus, we__ believe out here to let nature take her course."_

That was never a good sign. He was starting to worry if P had ever been in her own attic yet.

Gently, Derek began asking questions. "Angel...what have you done to the house already?"

She yawned, and then sighed, before looking forward again. "In the ad in the paper, it said _Relax in the country on a hobby farm! Charming Victorian farmhouse awaits new loving owners. Fix 'er up, bought as is_."

Derek cringed to himself, but simply nodded. "That usually means quite a bit of work."

She yawned again before continuing. "Kevin didn't think it meant _that _much work. Both of us were really devastated, Derek."

Even in the dim light of the truck's interior, he could see how huge and sad her eyes were. It broke his heart to see her so miserable.

"I'm sorry." He meant it, too; he wouldn't wish this on his worst enemy, much less his best friend. "That had to be a huge disillusionment."

"It was," she answered. "But we thought that we owned it, we had to make it work."

He shook his head. "You need know how for that kind of thing, honey."

"You do it," she said by way of explanation. "Take houses and fix them. Kevin thought if you did it, he could."

He wanted to punch the steering wheel. Fucking arrogant Kevin. Of course he didn't take into consideration that Derek hadn't rolled a house until he'd helped friends roll four of their own. It wasn't something you take on a whim; you work and study and learn, and then maybe do something if you had serious drive. Kevin didn't have the appearance he had any drive at all.

"Baby, I've been doing it for years. Near my house. Where lots of people can help me," he said, punctuating his points.

"I know, D," she said sadly. "We were here already, and we didn't think it was going to be so bad. We thought we'd have time and money, but we had the new roof and the new well in just a short period of time."

"Man, baby..."

"D, we had _racoons_ living in our house!" she cried.

That answered his question on whether or not P had been in her attic!

"Now the problem is, we sank so much into it, we couldn't just move back." She looked at him again, and then looked away. "There was nothing to move back to, anyway."

"Baby, you'd have your job in a heartbeat if you wanted it," he said. He didn't want her to think she was stuck. She was _never_ stuck. On a whim—and perhaps subconsciously to nudge her—he said, "I'm there."  
>She stiffened in her seat. "I have a husband now."<p>

"Trust me, I know," he said in a low, somewhat caustic tone. The man was useless, but he was her hubby...fat lot of good it did her.

"He's my husband now. Even though he doesn't know as much as you do, he's been there for me for the past year."

Alarm bells rang in Derek's head. The way she said that, the sad and bitter tone of her voice, sounded almost accusatory. He wondered what the hell that was all about. She'd been the one who hadn't answered their letters or calls. Christ, her best female friend had returned, and she hadn't even _acknowledged_ it.

Not only that, he was there, busting his ass for her just to be near her. If that wasn't being there for her...

He was livid by the time he spoke. "What the fuck do you mean by that?"

She was wide eyed. "Nothing, really."

"Bullshit," he snapped. "Just remember, Garcia—I wasn't the one who moved a thousand miles away on a fucking whim!"

"It wasn't a whim!" she cried. "We'd checked it out, and-"

"Well, you sure as hell didn't research sheep farming, did you?" he questioned sarcastically, not letting her finish her sentence.

She didn't respond.

He was on a roll, angry enough at the whole situation—Lynch's ineptitude, Penelope having to worry, him wishing like hell the last year hadn't passed.

His tone was sharp and chastising as he spoke again. "You should've came home, Penelope. Cut your losses. It isn't like we abandoned you or anything; we were all still there in Quantico. _I_ was there. Hell, I..."

He'd turned to give her a piece of his mind and saw her crying, tears running down her face. She was shaking, she was so upset.

He pulled the truck to the side of the road, closed his eyes, and got his temper under control. He felt like an absolute son of a bitch.

"Damn it, baby." He popped her seat belt open and in a long practiced movement of boys who drove cars in the eighties, he reached an arm over, sliding her across the bench seat and into his side. He held her close, trying to soothe her and feeling inadequate for the first time in a long time.

"Baby, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Please forgive me," he said, feeling even more like an ass as she cried harder and harder, like her heart had been positively broken.

It had, he thought to himself. Here she was, going out to a new land with the man she loved, and it was nothing but back breaking labor and disappointments. She had to feel miserable.

And instead of being a good friend, he'd made her cry by wanting her to admit she'd made a mistake.

"Derek, I don't want to fight," she said with a hiccup, burying her face in his shirt. "I am so g-g-glad you are here. I w-w-want you to know that, and...and...and I...l-l-love you!" She looked up at him with her beautiful blue eyes full of tears. "So much!"

She broke into more sobs then, which made him feel even worse.

"Hush, momma," he said, petting her hair as he drove, cooing and soothing. "Baby, please. I'm an ass. I'm—"

"N-No! You're w-w-wonderful!"

He chucked a little, a sad, self-depreciating little laugh. "No, I'm still an ass, but I do love you. You know that, right?"

She nodded, still sniffling, her sobs quieting just a bit.

"You're getting my shirt wet," he teased, kissing the top of her head.

She snuggled into his side more. "I...don't...care."

He'd hurt her; he'd never purposefully hurt her before. He let his feelings take over. He wasn't used to feeling anymore. He hadn't been the same since she'd left. He'd been numb.

He vowed to make it up to her the rest of this trip. "That's my girl..."

Sighing, he tucked her even closer as he moved the truck back onto the road.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. Here comes another chapter..._

**Accusations and Second Chances**

"Baby Girl."

Penelope heard him talk, but she preferred to sleep. She didn't care if she saw the end of the show they must be watching; she'd rather sleep on Derek's shoulder, like usual.

He jiggled his shoulder under her cheek, which was just rude in her book. He needed to stop moving—like a good pillow—watch the movie, and let her rest.

"Sweetheart, we're at your place."

At the same time, she heard, "Baaa!"

Her eyes shot wide open: That was definitely not a sound one heard in Quantico! She bolted upright in her seat. "Oh. Oh!"

She could see his grin in the dark of the truck, kind of like the Cheshire cat in _Alice in Wonderland_. "You fell asleep."

"I did, didn't I?"

He chuckled. "Yep."

She stretched her arms over her head. "Sorry about that," she said with a giggle, and then rubbed her eyes under her glasses. "What time is it now?"

"Ten," he answered as he opened his door.

Penelope gasped and stumbled as she stepped out of the truck. She could feel the blood drain from her face. God, Kevin was going to be furious, and with good reason. They'd been gone all day, and she'd told him they were just going to the hardware store.

That had been a bad oversight on her behalf.

"We'd better go in," she said warily, looking at her front porch.

Derek arched a brow at her, curiosity and undoubted concern written in his expression. "You expecting trouble?"

"No," she answered. "I can handle it."

He frowned slightly. "Handle what, baby?"

She hung her head slightly. "I didn't expect to be gone all day. I must've worried Kevin sick."

He cupped her chin in his hand, making her meet his eyes. "What we did was necessary. I'll explain about the truck to Lynch, and—"

She put a hand on his chest to stop him. "D...It's my fight. Let me explain."

"Well!" Kevin huffed on the front steps behind her. "You're finally home. I was very worried, Penny. Very worried indeed."

"Hi, honey," she said, turning away from Derek to kiss Kevin's cheek. "I'm so sorry I'm late."

From the expression on her husband's face, she knew this wasn't going to be an easy fight tonight.

"I thought I should send out an APB. Maybe put out a missing persons alert," he drawled, sounding sarcastic, "but then, you're with the FBI, and that's who _they'd_ call, so I figured it was a moot point!"

Derek snickered, and then looked sheepish. "Sorry. I'll...leave you two alone."

After Derek went inside, she said, "Kevin, please..."

"Where were you?" he asked with a scowl, but behind the scowl was a very hurt, very sad expression, and that broke her heart. He pouted while looking at her. "I thought you said you were just going to the hardware store."

"We were going to the hardware store," she answered, "but then we almost literally ran _into_ the hardware store, so Derek fixed our brakes with Harvey in town."

"Harvey? The neanderthal that runs the car repair shop?" Kevin was obviously incredulous.

"Yes Harvey," she said softly. "He's really not that bad."

"Oh, I see. _Agent Morgan_ likes the guy, so suddenly he's a prince among men, hmm?"

That pettiness needed to go, now. She couldn't take stupid jealousy anymore. She'd had it with his green eyed monster, especially after she had explained how she'd felt last night.

She was done arguing. She raised her chin."That comment doesn't deserve a response."

He squinted behind his glasses. "I'm right. Admit it. I'm correct. Good ol' _Hot Stuff_ says _jump_, and you're saying _how high_ again."

She pushed past him and stomped up the stairs to the front door. That was uncalled for, and he should've known it.

"Penelope!"

She didn't pause as she went into the house.

"What do you expect me to think?" he asked, following behind her into the kitchen. "You spend the day gallivanting with him, the _entire _day, and there's no word from you. No call—"

She spun around to face him, absolutely furious. "We don't have a phone, you idiot! How could I call?"

"You could've come home and said what you were doing," he snapped back.

She gaped at him like he'd lost his mind. "It's a fifty minute drive to town!"

"So?"

Narrowing her eyes, she said, "So I refuse to head back here because you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? Ridiculous? You were gone _all day_!"

He was shouting so loudly, there was no way in hell Derek, or any of the sheep for that matter, missed what he was saying.

"Kevin, calm down," she said, not wanting to fight anymore. God, what Derek must think of her marriage! It wasn't a perfect affair, but Kevin did love her, and they did support each other. It was a decent relationship.

"I will not!" he snapped. "I was here, working myself to the bone all day, while you meandered with that...that...sculpted nincompoop!"

"He is not a nincompoop! He's my best friend!"

"Some best friend!"

"Penelope," Derek said from the hallway. He had his suitcase by his side.

Her heart ached in her chest. Panic and bile rose; he was leaving! He couldn't leave. She felt tears prick her eyes.

He took five steps forward until he was nose to nose with Kevin. "Lynch. Penelope asked me not to say anything, because she was going to handle this, but anyone can tell that reasoning with you is like reasoning with a five year old child."

"D, please, I can—"

At the same time, Kevin scoffed angrily, "Well!"

Derek turned to face her. "No, Baby Girl, this needs to be said." He narrowed his eyes at Kevin. "I fixed your wife's truck, because if I didn't she very well could've been dead, hitting a tree or a fence or some other person. I refuse to let that happen to someone I care very much for."

"I was going to do it, but I have been very busy—"

"Don't you dare give me that bullshit about being busy!" Derek snarled, so fiercely, Kevin startled, and then immediately quieted. "Penelope's _well being _should _never_ take a back seat to anything!"

He turned to face her again. She could tell he was trying to calm down, but his jaw was still ticking.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I don't want to cause trouble, but I have been."

Tears rolled down her face. "You haven't."

"Yes, angel, I have," he said. "Every day, you have to explain my presence to him, and I can't stand it anymore. One day is enough."

"There's a motel in Greeley," Kevin drawled in a smug tone of voice.

"Absolutely not!" Penelope said, snapping at Kevin. "Your family and friends have stayed here _carte blanche_, and I've never said a word to them. I refuse to have my best friend leave."

"Penelope," Derek said. "I don't mind."

"I do!" she snapped back, and then tried to calm herself down when she looked back at her husband. "Kevin, Derek told you, I told you,_ Harvey the mechanic_ can tell you what we did all day. If after four years of being together, and one year of marriage you can't trust me...I should be the one going."

"Penelope!" he exclaimed, sounding stricken and desperate. "I...I...I'm fine. I'm sorry. I overreacted."

Watching Kevin, she knew he was truly upset. There was no disguising his emotions, so she always knew what she was getting. He wore his heart on his sleeve, cried, and usually begged forgiveness when he finally admitted he was wrong.

"You won't do it again?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. She didn't want to stay mad at him, and she _had_ worried him...

"I will try my best not to, shnookums." His eyes watered, and he looked very dejected, like a dog that had been kicked. "I do love you."

She smiled back, patting Kevin's cheek. "I know."

Derek didn't sound as convinced. "This isn't working. I really think I—"

"Please, D," she interrupted, turning to face him. Now she was the one pleading, begging him to stay. "One more night, and if it isn't perfect, you can go."

She could see the war going on in Morgan's head, but then he sighed. Despite his attempt to appear unaffected, she knew he was upset still. "All right, P."

He turned with his suitcase and went back into the guest room without saying another word; he simply shut the door.

"I'm glad that's settled."

Penelope turned to see the victorious smile on her husband's face. He had obviously enjoyed Morgan's discomforture. In fact...he relished it.

This time, she was the one who was silent as she started up the staircase, needing to get away from the childishness that was her spouse.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews...This chapter is a big one...We figure things out here..._

**Hiding the Truth and Seeing the Light**

Derek was sitting on the bed in the guest room. He could hear Penelope and Kevin talking. He knew he should go in there and try to make nice, but he was damned if he would. He was so angry at Lynch, he couldn't bear to look at him.

Kevin had done it again, with that sad, sappy look. Why Penelope fell for that, why she felt so sorry for him, he would never know.

"I feel so awful, Penelope!" he heard Lynch say through one of the many cracks in the wall. "It's just that I would've fixed it if I hadn't been so busy. I've been trying so hard to get the barn in order for the sheep and the shearing. That's income, you know."

"I know, Kevin," Penelope said, sounding very pacifying. "I don't think Derek means to sound like he's being critical."

Penelope was dead wrong; he was being critical. That lazy ass needed to take care of his wife. Letting brakes go for that long was not acceptable in his book. Kevin should have done it. Hell, Lynch knew Penelope almost as well as he did; she didn't know diddly about cars, and—

Derek's stomach knotted as he stopped himself. Kevin knew her _better_ than he did. He was married to her. He knew her in a _Biblical_ fashion.

He shook his head in disgust over his own thoughts and started to reach for toiletry items from his bag, when Penelope's next words stopped him.

"I am just so happy that he is here," he heard Penelope say to Kevin. "It took me forever to get him to come here. I asked ten times at least, you know that."

Derek paused in shock and dropped his body wash. She'd asked him to come out there ten times? She'd asked once, as far as he knew, and he'd left the moment he'd been done with the case.

Something was rotten in the state of Wyoming...

"I know," Kevin replied, sounding just as sad. "You've been writing for a long time."

Writing? Then why in the hell hadn't he received any letters? He suddenly had a feeling Penelope hadn't gotten any of his letters, either.

Derek's cheek began to tick as he started putting two and two together and was getting the absolutely right answer: Lynch was a fucking piece of crap.

Son of a bitch isolates his Baby Girl, stealing her mail—a federal offense...and Derek at the moment wanted to see him hang for it!—and then makes her dependent on him for everything so she won't leave. Meanwhile, he lets this house nearly fall apart around her.

No wonder Kevin had been so pissy about him being there! Must've shocked the shit out of him when Derek had walked in that front door.

Now, Kevin had made a true enemy. Lynch may be her husband, but he didn't deserve her—not that he ever had. He was going to expose Lynch for the lying, rotten pussy that he was, and then he was going to take his Baby Girl home with him, where she belonged.

Grabbing his toiletry items, he headed down the hallway to the clean but decrepit bathroom, hoping to let off some steam. He knew the water was cold—the water heater was on its last legs. That would cool him down.

* * *

><p>Early the next morning, Derek rose well before Penelope did. Purposely, he got up when Lynch did. Amazingly, Kevin was an early riser. Derek didn't think the man had any drive to do anything, much less get up early. He dressed, and followed Lynch quietly out to the barn, like a stealth agent on a mission.<p>

In a way, he was on a mission—the mission to get Penelope away from this rat bastard.

Stepping around piles of sheep dung—no wonder his room stunk!—he made it to the barn. Slowly, he opened the door and peered inside.

Kevin Lynch sat on a bale of hay, assembling what looked to be a very high tech gadget for a barn. Looking closer, Derek recognized what it was: a satellite signal, similar to the one that Penelope had used when they were in Franklin, Alaska. There had been no phone, internet, or cell service in that town, either.

He realized then Lynch wasn't assembling it; he was opening it up, much like P had done when she'd needed to get the signal for them on that case. He tapped some buttons, and then Derek saw him open a laptop.

"Yeah, Giles," he said. "That was _really_ funny, sending _Agent Morgan_ with your message. You know how curious he is! Like a butt ugly bulldog with a bone—he _never_ lets go."

Derek closed his eyes and shook his head. He should've known one of the other tech geeks was playing a trick. The only one he'd ever had anything in common with was Penelope; having one come up and ask him to deliver a message was reason for alarm. He'd underestimated and charted that up to nothing.

"I do have a sense of humor!" he snapped. "I just don't want Penelope knowing...Yes, this has been working perfectly since April."

Derek gritted his teeth. _Three __months, _this pecker had phone service, and he hadn't let Penelope know?

"She's going to be so excited when I tell her."

That was it. Something snapped in Derek. He was going to kick the living shit out of this idiot.

Now.

"Tell her what, Lynch?" Derek asked, coming around the corner.

"Uh...Giles? I gotta go," Kevin said quickly, looking at him guiltily from the filthy barn.

Derek approached Kevin, ready to pound the little bastard, but Kevin backed up quickly, nearly knocking over his satellite dish.

"A-Agent Morgan, I can explain!"

"Were you going to tell her how you hid communication with her friends—her BAU family—for months?" he asked, still gaining on Kevin, his intent clearly written on his face. "Or tell her how you lied to her, making her think you worked out here, when you haven't touched a fucking thing?"

Kevin looked a touch amused. "I don't think she'd mind that part. Penny knows I am not cut out to be a sheep farmer. She knew that a month after we got here."

Derek couldn't believe this guy. Instead of taking responsibility, he was trying to make excuses for his behavior, and it was making Derek even more livid. "What about how you stole her mail? Would she mind that, Kevin?"

"Th-That was an accident!" Kevin squealed, standing behind a sheep, and then promptly sneezing.

Derek narrowed his eyes. "I highly doubt that, you manipulative fuck! How could you do this to her?"

"I can explain!" Kevin yelped, taking another step aside.

Derek took another step forward...and stepped through a rotted floorboard, getting his foot stuck.

Kevin gave him a wide eyed look, seized the opportunity, and then took off at a sprint out the barn door.

Shaking his head, Derek angrily tried to yank his foot out of the floor, unable to get it to release. He bent over, beginning to break off pieces of floorboard. At the same time, he saw the open laptop, opened to an email page.

_Tech jobs, Las Vegas, Nevada_

_Apartments, Las Vegas, Nevada_

Was the bastard planning on leaving Penelope with the farm, her life savings socked in there, doomed to fail?

With a herculean yank of his foot, Derek got his foot out of the floorboards. A second later, he was dashing to the house.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews! I am camping, so I have someone pinch hitting my posting. Thanks so much, Betty-Anne, for keeping the story going while I'm gone. If you all haven't checked out her stories, Sangreal7, you're missing out. They are incredible._

**Being Controlled or Taking Control**

"Penny!"

Penelope woke to Kevin screeching her name downstairs. She glanced at the clock, saw the ridiculous early hour, and groaned. She rolled over, trying to go back to bed, when she heard it again, along with some other words.

"Penny! He's going to kill me!"

That woke her up.

She tugged on her robe, put on her slippers, and then raced down the stairs. She saw her husband in the living room, locking the door and putting a chair under the door knob, before sitting in the chair in a slump, panting for breath like he'd been running miles.

"Kevin, what in the world is going on?" she asked, wide eyed.

He looked at her, a guilty flush on his face, and he began to pout. "Penny. It's not what it looks like."

She was confused. "What? What does what look like?"

"What Agent Morgan is going to say," he said quickly. "It isn't what it sounds like, not at all."

She really hated when her husband was scared; he became positively incoherent. The night the raccoon from the attic ran across the living room, Kevin had been barely able to form a word.

"What does _what_ sound like? Where's Derek?"

"_Here's_ Derek," Morgan said, coming in from the unlocked kitchen door. He was carrying a book of some sort.

Kevin immediately stood, looking like he was ready to bolt. "K-Keep him away from me, Penny!"

"What is going on?" She looked at Derek, who was glaring at Kevin, and then she looked again at what he was carrying."Derek, why are you carrying...a...laptop..."

She turned to look at Kevin and knew she couldn't keep the disappointment off her face. "Oh, Kevin."

"It isn't what it looks like, Penny!" he cried. "I told you it isn't what it looks like."

"It's not a laptop?" she asked sarcastically.

Kevin's guilty flush turned even brighter. "Well, yes...it is, but it's not for dreadful purposes."

"What purpose, Kevin?" she asked.

"I can tell her," Derek said, glaring.

"Derek, hush!" Pen said quickly. "I know you are protecting me—like always—but this is between me and my husband."

Derek gave Kevin a distrustful, watchful eye, never looking over at her. "Baby Girl..."

"Derek, please," she pleaded.

Immediately, Derek took a seat and kept quiet.

"Kevin," she said, "please explain."

"Penny, it is internet access," he said quickly. "I bought internet access, a satellite, and some cables."

She frowned, but she could almost understand. She really missed code, too. Missed the computer lifestyle. It was a huge part of their life, and giving up cold turkey was hard.

"But I didn't use it for porn or anything like that," he said, and then began to blush. "Well, maybe a few times."

She shook her head. Good Lord, she didn't want to know that. If he wanted to pull _it_ while he pulled up pages, that was his prerogative. She knew he wouldn't cheat on her. That wasn't Kevin's style.

"Kevin, I don't care about that," she said. "What did you use it for...and why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed heavily. "Penny, buying this house—buying it and moving here without really checking it out—was a huge mistake. I don't know how to fix things, and I don't know how to solve these problems we're having." He scratched his head and stared at her sadly. "I don't even know how to shear a sheep!"

She'd come to the same conclusion a week after they'd moved in, and it had solidified nearly every day. It was rock solid by the time Derek came to town.

Yesterday, Derek had wanted her to admit she'd made a mistake? She already _knew_ she'd made the mistake of a lifetime.

"Fortune City was all a huge blunder," he lamented sadly. He turned, smiled at her, and took her hand. "In fact, the only thing I wouldn't change, the only good thing about Wyoming, was marrying you."

Her heart ached, but it wasn't like it usually was. She felt sorry for him, and it wasn't a good feeling at all.

Maybe she was tired of pitying her husband?

She still had questions she needed answered. "Why didn't you tell me you had satellite service?"

He bit his bottom lip, and then let it out with a raspberry rasp of his lips. He took a steady breath. "I figured the mistake was all mine—talking us into a sheep farm, moving so far away—so I wanted to be the one to fix it."

"It was my choice, too, Kevin," she added softly. She took responsibility for her part in this fiasco.

"Well, anyway, I did fix it," he said, ignoring what she said and smiling happily at her. "Giles, my friend at Quantico, was looking up tech jobs for me. I got a supervisor position in Las Vegas, Penny, for a detective agency!"

"Really…"

Kevin was obviously thrilled. "Yes! I found us a nice little rental on the outskirts of town, too."

"What about me?" she asked.

His smile faltered a little. "Oh, I don't know. I didn't think about that. You'd probably have an entry level position there if you wanted it, but it would only be for a little while," he said, wiggling his eyebrows over his glasses, "once they figure out what a kitten you are. Roar!" He made claw like hands at her.

"What about going back to Quantico?" she asked.

He frowned. "Penny...I told you how they treated me there. They'd dislike me for no reason, just like that one over there did." He angled his head at Derek. "Now I'm even more sure. They'd have rumors again, like how he got you to come back and that you couldn't live without him, and he'd feed into them."

"What!" Derek snapped from the couch, positively outraged. "What the hell are you talking about? I never—"

"Morgan, please!" she said, and he quieted down, but she could see it was only out of respect for her. His cheek was still ticking angrily.

She turned back to Kevin. "So you decided to just dump this and leave with me to Las Vegas. No more retirement, no more gentle country living, no more just you and me?"

He scoffed. "Come on, Penny. You know I'm not a sheep farmer."

"Did you ever...try, Kevin?" she asked, attempting to hold her ire in check.

He stared blankly at her. "What?"

Oh, she was pissed. She was beyond angry. He'd made her entire life choices for her without even bothering to consult her. He'd fixed it, yes...by making decisions she had no idea about.

"Did you ever even try to make this dream come true...or have I been wasting my life for the past ten months?"

He paled. "Penny..."

"You never even gave it a shot, Kevin. You painted a picture, made it sound like something you really wanted, and then you gave up without telling me." She was livid; her pulse was pounding in her head. "You let me sink more time, effort, and money into this, when all along, you were ready to bail?"

"It wasn't like that, exactly..."

"And to not even consider Quantico, where we already have a life?" She glared at him. "Why would you do that to us? To me?"

"Penelope, I know how you feel and how close you were to them. I know how they could reel you in, and you'd be unhappy," he began softly. "All that death, gore, things you didn't like."

"But I had a lot of things I did like, Kevin. Respect, responsibility, friendship."

"Penny, I can't stay here, and I won't go back," Kevin said.

"You should've told me," she guttered sadly, shaking her head. She knew in her heart, this was irrepairable. "You should've shared this with me."

"It was my mistake," he said, so softly she could barely hear him. "I wanted to fix it. That's why I couldn't share the phone or the letters."

Her head snapped up. "Letters?"

He nodded sadly. "I changed the PO box, right after the first shipment came from Virginia, so you wouldn't have a hint. Unfortunately, that's where all mail went with that postage. I couldn't share it. I couldn't let them sway you. I'm sorry. It was a mistake."

She whispered, "How many letters?"

Shuffling nervously, he began to explain, "I needed to fix this, Pe—"

"How many letters?" she yelled, tears rolling down her face. She was so angry, she could barely look at him.

He hung his head and pouted. "Forty or so. It was only until I got the system working and the job, and then I was going to give them to you."

She closed her eyes and began to cry harder. He'd let her believe her friends, her BAU family, and her half-brothers had deserted her. This man didn't love her. He wanted what he wanted, not what was best for her.

Maybe he had never really loved her?

"Get out," she whispered, knowing she'd come to the right decision.

He looked positively stricken. "Penelope!"

"I don't want to look at you. I may _never_ want to look at you again," she hissed, standing and turning away from him. "Get out."

He stood, grabbing his laptop. "Okay. I'll stay in Greeley tonight and get my stuff tomorrow."

Penelope didn't bother to turn as he walked out the door.

A moment later, she felt a warm, familiar hand on her shoulder. "Baby..."

"Oh, Derek!" she said, turning and sobbing against his chest. She held onto him like he was her only lifeline.

"Go ahead, honey," he murmured thickly, kissing her forehead. "Let it all out."

She cried for her marriage ending, she cried for the loss of naivety, and she cried for the strain on her friends and family. She let an onslaught of tears out, until she felt so weak, she could barely stand.

She felt Derek lift her into his strong arms and carry her up the stairs. He laid her in her bed, kissed her forehead, and tucked her in.

And to her own amazement, she slept.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews! I'm back! Hope you enjoy the chapter...Thanks always, to my dear friend, Jenny (Jenrar), for editing. She said it best, "Kevin is a shithead"...LOL..._

**Fights and Fears**

Derek closed the door to Penelope's bedroom, and then took off quickly down the stairs two at a time. He had a feeling—a really sinking feeling—that Kevin Lynch was not giving up that quickly. When his sister Sarah was going through a bad breakup with Eli, her ex-husband, he'd heard Eli had done all sorts of things to make Sarah's life miserable…and keep her dependent.

Opening the front door, he saw Kevin…climbing into Esther 2.

That was the final insult. The bastard took Pen's friends from her by denying her contact, took her savings by letting her sock her life into this house…but the worst thing in Derek's book—by far—was that he took her love for granted. He'd be _damned_ if he let the man take her truck.

He'd rather kill the son of a bitch.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Derek called from behind the porch rail.

Kevin paused, his hand on the door handle. "Do what?"

Derek narrowed his eyes. That SOB knew exactly what he was doing; that question didn't deserve a response.

Moments later, he snapped, "So I am supposed to take my car?"

"I don't give a damn if you sprout feathers and fly," Derek said. "You're not taking her truck."

Kevin had the audacity to roll his eyes. "My car barely runs! It barely ran in Quantico, and it drove all these miles. If she wants me gone, I need to take that truck."

"Oh, you're going to be gone," Derek said, very thinly veiled menace in his voice, "but you're not taking her truck."

"This is stupid," Kevin spat, opening the door.

"I don't give a shit if you have to walk the entire way to town. Shut the truck door."

Kevin began to climb in.

In a swift movement, Derek vaulted over the rail and grabbed Kevin by the collar, yanking him out of the truck. He tossed him on the ground, into a pile of dirt, and stood over him.

"Hey!" Kevin cried, gasping for air. "Touch me...again, and I'll call...the police!"

At this point, it was almost worth it to Derek to go to jail. His fury was barely leashed. The entire time he'd listened to that whiny little bastard talking to Penelope, he'd wanted to plant his fist in his face.

"Haven't you taken enough from her?" Derek snarled, his hands balled at his side. "Do you have to sink so low, you'd take the one thing she'd still need?"

Kevin scoffed. "It's only for the night."

"That's what you think," Derek said nastily, a slight smirk at Kevin.

"Oh, and where's my computer equipment?" Kevin hissed, scrambling to his feet. "You were the last one in the barn. I need that! Where is it?"

"Where you'll never find it." Derek had the foresight to hide the satellite dish and other equipment before leaving the barn. He suspected that was what took Kevin so long to leave the farm—he'd been searching for _his _stuff.

"That's stea-" Kevin began, but then quieted at Derek's look.

As he began to dust himself off, he said, "You know...it wasn't good enough for you to be in the middle of my dating relationship. Now you need to interject yourself into my marriage, too."

"No thanks to you! You kept her correspondence from her, kept her from her best friends…her own family!" Derek seethed, shaking his head in indignant disbelief.

"I was right, though, wasn't I?" he said, narrowing his beady black eyes behind his glasses.

Derek frowned at him, trying his best not to roll his eyes. Of course the little fucker wanted to be right about something. That had been his famous line the last couple of days, _I was right_.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Keeping her away." He pressed his glasses up on his nose with his middle finger, hacked and snorted, and then spit a wad of dirty snot on the ground. "You people never liked me. You all barely tolerated me. Always saying things, wishing that she'd find someone better—don't try to deny it!"

Derek didn't even _think_ of trying to deny it.

"So the minute she has contact with one of you again…it's _sayonara_, goodbye, hit the road, Kevin." He pouted, giving Derek the impression that maybe the look wasn't just an act. "I _had_ to be preemptive. I wanted to be able to show her I wasn't such a failure, before all of you could get your hooks into her again!"

Derek shook his head in disgust. "You _are_ a diabolical little Unsub, you know that? How can you say you love her and do that to her?"

Kevin raised his fists and took a step at Derek. "I do love her! I always will…more than you ever will."

_He __really__ didn't get it_, Derek realized. No matter what Derek said or did, Lynch would think he was right. Derek shook his head, a cross of pity and anger in his head. "Lynch…what you did to her…That ain't love."

"Doesn't matter what you think, now, does it, Agent Morgan?" Kevin took a step closer. "Because she's still my wife."

Derek shrugged. "Not for long."

"That's what you think," he said, sputtering in anger. "I'll win her back!"

"Oh, hell, no," Derek said, his expression saying what he was thinking: _get real_. "She's not going to fall for your crap again..."

Kevin gave him a sad look again, but his eyes were merciless. "Really? You _really_ think that it won't matter if I tell her that I love her, and I _really_ want to try? I am her husband, after all. Not you...and that's what matters to _my_ Penny!"

Derek's stomach sank at the inflection, the ownership in Kevin's words. Although he fought it, a grain of worry was planted in his brain. Pen had married the man. He knew his girl; those vows meant something to her. She was tenacious, too. She hated to give up. She always had...but God, he couldn't watch her take more of this abuse. That's what it was, even if Lynch or Penelope didn't see it.

Kevin cocked his head at him, a superior look on is face. "What's your problem? Realize I am right? We of superior intellect—brain instead of brawn—usually are."

Derek didn't even bother to respond. Something that stupid didn't require a response. He turned on his heels, but he then he heard Kevin's voice.

"You know it's true, _Agent Morgan_!" Kevin said, sounding practically gleeful. "I won. Despite your attacks and tries at luring my girl, I won. The geek beat the jock. David slayed Goliath."

"Just shut the fuck up and get the hell out of here," Derek said, sick of hearing the other man's voice.

"Even with your lies you told others. You let others think she was sleeping with you, and you didn't stop it. You encouraged it!"

That made Derek turn back. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Kevin raised his chin. "It didn't work. She chose_ me, _and she will _always_ choose me. No matter how many times you tried to seduce her into your bed."

Derek curled his lip at Kevin. "You're sick."

"Tell me...are you still trying to get her there?" Kevin asked, narrowing his eyes just slightly. "You might succeed—if she's really lonely...and feeling desperate...I'll still get her back in my bed in the end."

That did it.

"You bastard!" Derek growled, grabbing Kevin's collar. "You don't deserve her! You don't deserve to breathe the same air as her!"

Kevin was now smiling. In fact, he was almost joyous. It was obvious he had the power; Derek had given it to him by letting him push his buttons. It was his Achilles' heel, how much he wanted Penelope and knew he couldn't have her. It made Derek sick; Lynch had won. For some reason, Kevin _always_ seemed to win around him.

Giving Kevin a shake like a dog with a bone, Derek tossed him aside again.

"That may be so, Agent Morgan. I don't deserve her. But we both know one thing, don't we?" Kevin rose slowly to his feet. "When push comes to shove, we know who Penelope will choose…"

"Go to hell," Derek said, but even he could feel the rise of insecurity in his voice.

Kevin laughed, and then climbed into his rickety car. After two backfires, he drove the car off Penelope's land.

_Jesus_. He'd played right into that.

He breathed heavily. He couldn't believe he'd let Lynch get to him that badly. Kevin hated him, and he hated Kevin; he almost couldn't blame the man for going for the juggler. After all, Kevin had the most to lose.

Derek just needed to let Penelope know she was supported and cared for. He needed to let her know she was cherished, worth so much, and needed. He needed to let her know she was loved…more than she ever knew.

She needed to heal, and he needed to let her. That was what was most important now.

And he needed to make her dinner. She would be up soon.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. I woke up with a killer cold...Not only that, but I colored my hair last night, and now it is as dark as Snow White's (I hear dwarfs were looking for me!)...So, here comes the next chapter...and if anyone knows how to lift too dark hair color, can you let me know? ;)_

**Disconnecting and Reconnecting**

Penelope woke to the smell of something good being cooked. She could smell seasonings: heavy oregano and garlic, light basil and tomato.

Definite _Derek Morgan_ tomato sauce.

Her best friend was not the best cook, but he made really good spaghetti. He had his mother's recipe, and he'd cooked it for Penelope many times in the past. It had been luscious every time, and her mouth was watering.

Rolling over, she looked at her alarm clock. It was only eleven AM—rather early for one of the worst days of her life. She could barely believe all that had happened. In the course of less than an hour, she'd found out her husband was a liar, that her hard work had been for naught, and her plans for making a working life here were in the toilet.

She was beyond angry. She thought about how she'd scrimped and saved, so much that she was reusing Ziploc bags, and he was out buying technical gadgets? Granted, it was for reasons he thought were making their life better…

She stopped herself. No. No more excuses for him. He was making his _own_ life better. He hadn't consulted her; he had no idea what would improve her life.

She'd sold so much of her stuff, cashed in her retirement, her bonds she'd had, to fix the roof on this house—a home her husband had never really intended on living in. All the days she'd spent worrying if they'd make ends meet, pleading with him about pennies—Her _truck_! They couldn't afford to fix that!—and he'd never said a word.

She was going to divorce Kevin. There was no doubt about it. Without trust, without communication, there could not be a marriage.

She sat up in her bed and sighed. Deep in her heart, she knew she wasn't divorcing Kevin just because of what happened today, although there was enough in that alone to justify that action.

There had been so much that spoke of his betrayal to her. She thought of the times she'd cried to him, and he'd comforted her and cried, too, when she'd been sad about not having contact with her friends. How it had hurt, deep in her soul, to know that Reid, Hotch, and especially Derek could've forgotten her so thoroughly in less than a year.

"I'm here, honey," he'd said, holding her. "All we need is each other."

To know that he'd known all along, had known that her friends and family were reaching out to her…_Forty_ letters! Dear God!

Wiping away bitter tears, she stood up and began getting dressed. She had one of those dear friends here, the best friend that she'd ever had, and he deserved her company. She needed to put away for awhile the part of her that wanted to crawl under a rock and never come out.

She was angry at Kevin, but she was even angrier at herself for letting herself be duped by him for that long. Now she had a huge mess, a massive one that she would have to figure out herself. She snorted bitterly; she sure as hell didn't trust Kevin to make any decisions or "fix" things. _She_ needed to take charge; _she_ needed to make this better.

And never again was she going to let some man—_any_ man—decide her life for her.

Her stomach roiled again, and her mouth tasted like acid. After having some Derek's terrific spaghetti, maybe she'd feel a lot better.

* * *

><p>"Baby Girl," Derek said, turning away from the stove to face her. He was smiling warmly, sympathetically. "You're up."<p>

Normally, she wasn't into pity, but at this moment, she welcomed it. She felt like she needed not exactly pity, but comfort, and a champion…and there was no one better on Earth to give her those things than Derek.

"I raided your cupboards and made spaghetti. I hope you don't mind."

He looked nervous, like he didn't want to step on her toes. Somehow, he must've known she needed him to tread lightly right now. It made her realize yet again the difference between someone who loved her and someone who didn't.

Shuffling her feet, she made her way farther into the kitchen and gave him a hug. "Thanks for staying, Hot Stuff."

He held her tightly and murmured, "There's no place I'd rather be."

She chuckled and shook her head. Then she leaned forward and buried her face in his shirt. "You must be some sort of masochist to want to be in a house where a marriage is falling apart."

He cupped her chin in his hand and made her look up at him. "Hey…as long as I'm with you, that's where I need to be."

Her eyes were watery when she met his again. "I screwed up, Derek. Big time."

He smiled wryly at her. "Nah. Not too badly."

"Yeah, I did," she said, slowly releasing him. She walked to the sink to get a glass of water, taking a sip.

"Want some spaghetti?" he asked, stirring the sauce.

"Momma Morgan's famous sauce? Of course!" She plopped down at the table, exhausted. She'd just woken up, and she _still _felt exhausted.

He reached for a plate, piled on some spaghetti—far more than she could eat—and poured sauce on it, before delivering the plate to her.

"_Bon appetit_," he said.

"That's French," she said, just before taking a big bite of delicious spaghetti. "You need to ask Rossi what it is in Italian."

"Maybe you can ask him yourself, angel," he said with a smile.

She frowned up at him, sucking a noodle between her lips.

"I took all the satellite information and equipment and hid them in the barn before I came in here," he said with that same wry grin. "I thought you deserved to use it, considering he had it for himself all those months."

She didn't know how to respond. She was nervous, excited, and nervous again. "Oh…"

He held a satellite phone out to her. "They've been waiting to hear from you, Baby Girl. All of them. Reid, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ."

Penelope's mouth dropped open in shock. "My girl?"

"She's back, Penelope," he said softly, taking a seat across from her. "Sweetheart, I wrote you months ago about it. JJ wrote, too. She sent me tons of text messages."

Penelope couldn't speak. God, what she wouldn't have done to have a girlfriend to talk to during this! She loved Derek, but there were some things that only a female would understand.

It was so overwhelming, she began to cry again. She wiped her eyes as the tears began to spill.

Derek looked immediately worried. "Baby?"

She giggled through her tears, wiping her eyes. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry anymore."

Reaching over, he pulled her into his lap and took a napkin to wipe her cheeks. "Sweetheart, that's a silly promise."

She lay her head against his shoulder and said, "Yes, Baby Boy, I think you're right."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

_AN: Since the last one was very short by my standards, I am posting this one quickly, too...Thanks to Harleyzgirl for the title suggestion for this chapter back in Jun/Jul when I wrote this!_

**Dinner, a movie, and a Date With Destiny**

Derek held Penelope on his lap for awhile longer. He could hold her there forever, but he knew she needed to eat, gain strength, and vent. He was, above everything else, a very good friend.

So, he kissed her cheek, and then he teasingly bounced his knee, jiggling her on his lap. "Up, princess. My lap's falling asleep, and you need spaghetti."

He saw her glance over at the plate and pout just a little. "I am guessing it's cold."

He helped her to her feet. "Then we'll toss it out and make you a new plate."

She looked at him with a huge dose of panic in her eyes. "Derek, I can't waste food."

Chuckling, he reached for her plate. "Baby, one plate of cold food gone isn't gonna make a difference with starving children in a different country."

She held the plate. "No, D. That's not it."

He'd thought that panicking was an overreaction, but now he realized it was something more. "Since when? You always said that."

She looked up at him. "I mean, I've said that in the past...but that's not the reason this time."

All of the money she'd socked away into this place, her lack of employment, and being alone had to be putting undue stress on her. He wanted her to know she didn't have to worry about any of that. He didn't want to see her upset, worrying about things like money right now. She needed to take care of herself, heal from her heartache, so she could get back home.

Leaning over, he grasped her wrists. "Baby, don't worry about the money. Focus on feeling better." He kissed her hands, and then added with a smile, "I got enough to take care of you until you get back home to Quantico."

He saw her expression shift at the same time he felt her wrists stiffen under his hands.

"Take care of me?" she asked, and just from her tone, he could tell she was upset.

He blanched. Oh, no...

Back pedaling, he said, "Sweetheart—"

She yanked her hands away from him like they were manacles, and stood, pushing her chair back so quickly, it fell onto the floor with a thunk. "Derek, I don't _need_ or _want_ anyone to _take care_ of me. Not anymore!"

She turned and headed toward her stairs.

Panic rose inside him. God, this was not what he had intended at all. "Penelope!"

She was striding very quickly toward the stairwell, but he ran and caught up with her, grabbing her wrist again.

"P...Baby Girl...wait..."

She flung his hand off again. "You can keep your macho heroism, Derek Morgan! I don't want that!"

"I'm not saying that, baby," he coaxed gently. Damn, he'd put his foot in it!

"I need to take care of myself!"

At first, he'd been so worried about losing her, and what he had said and done, that he hadn't really looked at her. At that moment, he met her eyes.

There was blind panic there, a deep, sad fear. It really had nothing to do with him—she definitely wasn't afraid of him—but there was something there that frightened her, almost terrified her.

He cursed himself inwardly. He'd pushed, even after he'd told himself he wouldn't. It was just so hard for him. He wanted to carry her away, be her Prince Charming, and give her the castle she deserved. He wanted to make love to her, night and day, until she realized she could love him like he loved her, too, if she'd only give herself that chance.

And that was exactly the wrong thing to do.

"I know, Garcia, and I'm sorry," he said softly.

She looked up at him, and the fear in her eyes leaned much more toward hurt. "Derek, I don't want your money. I want to take care of this problem myself."

"I know."

"I need to," she said, putting her chin in the air. "I need to be strong. No sweeping in and fixing it."

"I understand; I'll back off," he said, stroking her wrist gently, soothingly, with his thumb. "You let me know what _you_ want from me, and I'll do it."

She stood stock still for a moment, just staring at him with a completely unreadable expression. Usually, he was good at reading her, but right now, his own emotions were so high, he was having a hard time thinking and seeing clearly.

She smiled gently, and he could see the love in her eyes as she raised her hand and cupped his cheek.

"What I want from you, handsome, is for you to keep being my best friend. Keep supporting me, even when I flip out and go crazy like this." She caressed the side of his face with her hand. "Because you, Derek Morgan, are truly one of a kind."

He felt his heart soar, and yet, it was grounded, too. He understood what she wanted, and he would fulfill that want, even though he needed so much more.

He turned his face to kiss her palm. "I can do that."

They returned to the kitchen. Penelope picked her chair up from the floor, and then sat back down across from her cold plate of spaghetti. She began to eat slowly.

Derek served himself some noodles and some sauce, and then took the seat next to her. He took her plate from in front of her, took half of her noodles, and then gave her half of his.

"Yours and mine together," he said, smiling gently at her. "Makes a good team."

She smiled back, mixed her spaghetti, and then they both took a bite.

* * *

><p>After they ate, they both moved to the living room and sat on the rickety, but rather comfortable old couch. She sat right next to him, under his arm, leaning against him for his support. He didn't know what the plan was for the rest of the day, but whatever she wanted was fine with him. She'd lost a lot today; he wasn't going to push her to entertain him.<p>

"Derek?"

"What, baby?"

She looked up at him."Will you teach me how to fix a window?"

He felt his heart sink just a little bit. Fixing the place up meant she had no plans to leave, and he really wanted her back in Quantico.

"Sure, honey."

She smiled. "I figure I have to do something to make this place marketable so I can afford to move."

He tried his best to keep a poker face, when inside his chest, his heart was doing cartwheels. She was coming home! Before he celebrated too much, he needed to know the reason why she was leaving.

"You want to leave this place?"

"I can't run a farm by myself," she said, and then sighed heavily. "And I don't want to, Derek. I miss my life. I miss everyone so much."

"You're planning on moving back to Quantico?"

She nodded, looking down."If they still want me."

Before she looked down, he saw the expression on her face. If there was one thing that he wanted to string Lynch up by the balls for, it was the look on Penelope's face. He'd taken her confidence, her fierceness, and tossed it away to the sheep.

"Penelope," he said, putting his hand under her chin and making her meet his eyes. "Call them. You'll know exactly how much they want you back."

She smiled, but her expression was still wary. He had a feeling it would be a while before he could talk her into making that call.

They sat in the silence for awhile longer, the occasional baa from the sheep interrupting the quiet.

"Does sitting on this couch remind you of anything?" she asked, and then looked at him, a quirky expression on her face. "The way we're sitting, kinda cuddly and cozy."

He smiled. "Yeah. Movie night."

"Would you mind watching a movie with me?" she asked, looking kind of shyly at him. "I know that's kind of boring when there are lots of things to see in town and on the farm."

He grinned at her. "I would love to."

She sat up from where she was leaning against him and sighed again. "And then tomorrow, I can start fixing this up and face my destiny."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

_AN:This one doesn't have my usual superb Jenrar edit, so please excuse my grammar mistakes!...I wanted to hurry and post it as a surprise for HGRHfan35 before I head out to the fair again...Thanks so much for reviewing; it means very much to me..._

**Fixing Up and Facing Facts**

"Okay, baby, see that wheel right there? No, to the left…there….now you got it!" Derek looked over from where he was holding the cabinet door up and beamed at her with pride. "Good job!"

Penelope felt a whole lot of pride at the moment, too. In the past three days, she and Derek had managed to fix thirty-one windows (except for two with broken glass—they had to go to town for those.), seven torn screens, and were now working on kitchen cabinets.

There had been no way she would've been able to do it herself. Derek had been a lifesaver, a huge support, and the dear friend she'd always known him to be.

And she'd almost turned him away.

_"D," she said the next morning after they'd fixed the first window. "I don't know how to thank you."_

_Derek shrugged. "No need to thank me. That's what friends are for." He gave her an eager grin, and asked, "What's next?"_

_She bit her lip and paused. This was really, really unfair to him. He'd come to visit, have a nice vacation with his best friend, and she was using him to her advantage, fixing up her dilapidated shack. She didn't want to take advantage of her renewed friendship with him; she cherished him far too much to do that._

_She smiled at him and looped her arms around his neck. In response, he automatically held her back around her waist. It was a usual stance for them. She could feel his hands rubbing her low back. _

_"I think, my sculpted statue of chocolate perfection,"she drawled slowly, "that we should have a fun day. Maybe drive to the next town over, see a movie or go to the museum?"_

_He looked down at her, arching a brow at her. "What is really the matter, angel?"_

_She huffed. "Sweetie, I can't use you like this. It isn't right. You are here for vacation, you should have a vacation."_

_"This is a vacation," he argued. _

_"Working your butt off?" she argued back, arching her brow. "You don't need to work those sweet cheeks off; they're already perfect."_

_He grinned sweetly at her. "Thanks for your concern, Penelope, but you need to remember…I turn houses _for fun_."_

_She couldn't argue with that. He used to say all the time he had a blast tearing out a wall or resurfacing a floor when he'd come back from a vacation._

_"And," he added, tapping her nose, "I get to do my favorite activity of all time—spending time with you."_

_"You forget I know you, Derek Morgan," she teased, giving a wiggle of her brows. "That is not your favorite activity of all time."_

_"Yes, it is." He cupped her chin. "Hey, I never lied to you before…why would I start now?"_

_Her heart gave a little leap in her chest. All the times he'd said to her he was okay hanging with her instead of going out; she'd felt bad keeping him from a date. He'd always said he'd rather spend time with her._

_Thinking back, she always thought the same way; it was a better evening, spending it with Derek. The thought made her smile._

_She wasn't allowed to daydream long._

_He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "C'mon. We got windows to fix…."_

Now she watched him, baseball cap backwards on his head, hammer hanging from his pocket, and his mouth full of nails while he surveyed some damage, she couldn't deny it. He looked to be completely in his element and thriving happily.

She had to face it: her best friend was incredible and very handy.

A moment later, he was lying on the ground, replacing a board that had rotted out under the kitchen sink. He hunted in the barn and found that replacement board, and a lot of usable tools. They didn't look too usable to Penelope. They were covered in rust and looked very old, but Derek had insisted they were still in decent working condition.

"They just need someone to love them," he'd said with a grin.

She watched as he hammered the large nail into the board he'd found with steady, even strokes. The muscles on his arms were flexing and extending, and gleaming with sweat. He had the most beautiful arms she'd ever seen, like a working statue.

She was fixated, just staring at the movement of his muscles, when she felt a bead of sweat drip between her breasts. God, it was hot in the house. It was August, the dog days of summer, and it was a scorcher. She shouldn't just stare, she needed to do something.

Turning, she went to the cupboard and removed a kool-aid® packet and her sugar canister. It was lime, their favorite. Derek used to add tequila when they had it at his house; it was a poor man's margarita. She had a little of that, too. After adding the ice and the water from the fridge, she poured in a healthy dose of tequila, and then poured in the kool-aid®.

"I got a surprise for you," she said, stirring the mixture happily.

She could hear him grunting to stand up. "Oh, really. What's that?"

When she turned around, she nearly dropped the glasses. He had his shirt off, and he was using it to wipe his face, his hands, and behind his neck. His baseball cap was sitting on the counter he was leaning against.

Good God, he was gorgeous! Every inch of his bare chest was glistening, beckoning her touch. His shorts dipped low on his lean waist, showing the cut definitions of his stomach and hips. She couldn't help but stare; even his navel was magnificent.

"Ah…Penelope?"

Quickly, and guiltily, she shot her eyes up to his and locked gazes with him. She was caught staring red handed. She wondered if she were drooling. Not that he seemed to mind; he was grinning at her like the cat that ate the canary.

She handed him the glass and gave him a glare. "You shouldn't do that to a woman. Run around half naked and get us all hot and bothered."

He smirked. "Want me fully naked? I can do that just as easily…"

She laughed and took a sip of her frosty drink, and then looked up at him through her lashes. "Let me get my seat so I can watch the show."

Chuckling, he took a big slug of the drink, and then coughed and choked a bit. "Whoa! That's _potent_! Wasn't expecting that..."

She harrumphed. "Serves you right for throwing me into a lust emergency."

He laughed. "You, crazy girl, do need to take me into town. I got a list of things we need now from the hardware store."

"Can I see?" she asked.

He handed her a slip of paper, and she looked it over, biting her lip. "This looks like more than I can afford, sugar lips."

"That is what the bank of Morgan is for," he answered. "A loan. That's all."

"Derek…"

"Go on and take it." He rolled his eyes. "I'll even charge you interest, if you want."

"I'm going to be indebted to you for as long as I live," she said. She meant it, too. He'd done so much for her. "I'm in your servitude."

"Oh, yeah," he said with a leer. "I know exactly which room I'd put you to work in…my little concubine."

Normally, she'd just giggle that thought away, but something in his leer struck her as the truth. She pictured herself in a harem girl's outfit, leaning over Derek—wearing just silk trousers and a veil—feeding him grapes. A thrill raced down her spine and pulsed in low in her belly.

Immediately, she shot it down. Kevin had barely left; she'd only just changed the sheets on the bed. She was being ridiculous; she shouldn't be thinking like that.

But a little voice in her head said, _Haven't you always thought like that?_

There was a lot of truth to that little voice. Although she'd loved Kevin, she'd always wondered what it would be like, what would've happened if she ever became Derek's lover. She knew he was good in bed; his prowess was legendary around the FBI.

She needed to stop this thinking before she became incapacitated. Derek wasn't like that with her; he didn't see her that way. They were good friends. Sure, sometimes she felt more, and had hoped that their teasing had meant more at one time, but she knew better. She'd seen what he'd dated over the years; she wasn't it.

She had enough teasing with him; she'd didn't need to delude herself with pipe dreams.

"Okay, _master_," she teased, raising her hands over her head and crossing her wrists, like a love slave. "Lead me to town."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm trying to get this all done before the season premiere, so bear with me, okay? I know I usually put a day between...Forgive me for overloading you guys! :)_

**Hardware and Hard Feelings**

Derek watched as Penelope, his pseudo-concubine, walked out of the kitchen toward the living room, her hips swaying seductively. If the house had been hot before, it was now a damned sauna. In her cut off shorts and her ratty, paper thin work shirt, the woman had it goin' on in spades. She could easily be on that calendar in his old room; there was even a little hole under the pocket of her jean shorts, teasing him with a flash of skin and panties when she moved.

What his mouth could do with that little hole, if she were his...

He needed to settle down, but it was damn hard—literally and figuratively—to do so when he felt like he did right now. In the space of only four days, they'd gotten comfortable with each other again, flirting and teasing like old times. It was a wonderful feeling, knowing the Penelope he knew, the true Penelope, was there, waiting to come out.

He'd been worried by the bleak look on her face four days ago that she wouldn't ever heal from what Lynch had done to her. He'd even listened through the cardboard-like walls to the sound of her crying herself to sleep. He'd worried, big time, for her. He'd wanted to take that pain from her, absorb it like he would physical blows, but he hadn't been able to do that. So, he'd hoped and held her, continued being a friend, and prayed she'd feel better.

He should've known better. Penelope was a fighter; she healed quickly. Of course, Penelope was hurt, but she was strong and resilient.

That was his Baby Girl. She was strong, beautiful, funny, and sexy as hell.

"Baby, I need to hit the shower," he said, "and then we'll go to town." He thought a _cold_ shower right about then sounded damn good.

She turned to look at him innocently. "What? I don't get to show off my smoking hot and sweaty hot Hot Stuff?"

He gave a little bark of laughter. "You, lady, need to get upstairs and change, too."

"I do," she said, looking down at her clothing. "This shirt is practically a ghost."

"Shorts, too," he said.

She frowned at him. "Why?"

He bit his lip, and made a circle in the air with his hand while trying to look behind her. "That little hole on your caboose is really cute, but I don't think you want Harvey or the other citizens knowing you have pink underpants on."

She turned from pink to scarlet in a heartbeat and cupped her hands on her butt, feeling frantically for the hole. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He grinned and answered honestly, "I thought it was cute."

She sighed and gave him a look of disbelief. "You would! Ugh...I looked like a hobo, and you didn't say a thing."

Derek rolled her eyes and headed toward his room. She looked adorable, not like a hobo. However, he'd learned many things in course of their friendship, and number one was: never come between Penelope and her clothes.

* * *

><p>They pulled the truck up to the curb on Main Street. A slow, gentle, uneventful stop.<p>

She put the truck in park and smiled over at him sheepishly. "Big difference, huh?"

"Considering we didn't almost take out a plate glass window? I'd say so."

She shoved his arm playfully, and then hopped out of the truck and headed toward the sidewalk.

He loved that she waited for him to put his arm around her before heading to the door. It was something they'd done all the time in Quantico; they'd walked into meetings, cuddled close, ready to face the world—and whatever case was going to be on the projection screen—together.

It was yet another thing that was proving to him that everything was returning to normal for them. He'd never felt more blessed in his life than to be able to support her now, when she needed him the most.

They walked into the hardware store, the little tinkling bells above the shop door alerting the ancient clerk.

"Well, hellooooo, Mrs. Lynch," the old woman said with a beaming smile.

Hearing that name made Derek tense his arm a little. He shouldn't have let it get to him—she was Kevin's wife still—but it had. He'd been daydreaming today far too much, forgetting that a certain weasel was involved in Penelope's life.

"Hi, Mrs. Putnam," she said, smiling at the other woman, although not as brightly. "I have a list of things to get for the house."

"_Finally_ going to fix up that old Oleson place?" a man who as just as decrepit asked with a grin. He was sitting on a barrel, cracking sunflower seeds and spitting them in a bucket. He never even bothered to look up at them—just kept doing his business.

The words and the actions seemed really rude to Derek. He was ready to tell the man off, but Penelope seemed okay with it.

"Yes," Penelope answered with a nod. "My friend Derek is here visiting. He is helping me fix the place so I can sell it and head back home."

"You're leaving?" Mrs. Putnam gasped. "Mrs. Lynch, we don't want to see you go. You're such a sweet person to have at the knitting circle."

Derek could barely hold back a laugh. Did she_ really _say knitting circle? He glanced at Penelope, who gave him a look that clearly said, _Don't you dare say a word!_

Then she smiled back at Mrs. Putnam. "I'm sorry. It's time to go home. I can't run a farm alone."

"Couldn't run it with that nincompoop you call a husband, either," the geezer said under his breath, but loud enough that anyone could hear.

That was it. Old or not, this guy was rude and needed to be taught a lesson. Just because he was ancient didn't mean he'd earned their respect, or the right to say whatever the hell he felt he could say.

"Hey," Derek said, narrowing his eyes at the old man. "Show some respect for the lady."

The old man looked up at him with bright eyes and did something Derek didn't expect at all.

He smiled.

"Well, look at you!" he said with that toothless grin. He glanced at Mrs. Putnam. "Maude, this one is a good one."

Derek was frowning in confusion now, more than anger.

"That's a fine surprise," the man said, wiping his hands on his pants before extending for a shake. "I'm Ezekiel Putnam, but friends call me Zeke."

His friendliness now didn't change what he'd said. Derek shook his hand. "Derek Morgan. Apologize to my best friend."

Zeke turned after a nod and smiled at Penelope. "Ma'am, I am sorry for my rude behavior. That was an uncalled for way to treat a lady."

"Thank you," Penelope said, blushing. "I know that Kevin was very rude to you and your wife when we first came to town. I apologize for not stopping him."

"You apologized already, Mrs. Lynch," Mrs. Putnam said quickly. "We forgave _you_ a long time ago."

Derek wondered what the hell Lynch said to these people to make them so at arms about him. He was an arrogant prick; Derek could see how he would build animosity far faster than friendship.

"Can I see your list, sonny?" Zeke asked. When Derek handed it over, the old man scanned it quickly, and then said, "Looks like we got most of what you need here, but a goodly portion is in back order. I can get it there in two weeks."

"Derek won't be here then, but I can pick it up," Penelope said.

"That's good," Mrs. Putnam said.

"When are you leaving?" Zeke questioned.

"Monday," Derek answered, although deep in his heart, he knew he couldn't leave her. Not until she was safely back home in Quantico.

Zeke looked at Penelope with concern. "That's a lot of work for one little lady. Is your husband going to help out?"

Penelope shook her head. "Kevin is no longer part of my life."

Hearing that made Derek's heart sing. He didn't want to cheer at the dissolution of Penelope's marriage, but he also knew she would never find true happiness with someone as selfish and eternally childish as Lynch.

"Oh, my dear," Mrs. Putnam said, patting Penelope's hand.

P smiled at her. "It's all right."

Even Mr. Putnam looked sympathetic. "Well, let me box this up here, Mrs...err..."

"Penelope," she said with a smile. "My friends call me Penelope."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

_AN: Thanks, everyone, who is reading, and favoriting, and alerting, and sticking with me through this story...It's about to get even better..._

**The Goods and the Date**

A half hour later, Penelope was still standing at the hardware store. They were on a first name basis for sure with Maude and Zeke, who were happily getting goodies for them and talking about the town and history of the county and Fortune City. There used to be real Wild West cowboys in the area, which thrilled Penelope to no end.

"They even say the James gang made their way around here, right around that old Oleson place," Zeke said, while showing Derek a huge saw that looked downright dangerous to her. "Made it their hideout, they say."

"Really?" Derek asked, sounding very interested. Crime and punishment always interested him, even if it was two hundred years old.

"Yes," Maude replied. "In the siding on the house, you might still see some bullets from a shootout that was supposed to have happened there."

D raised an eyebrow at Penelope in a surprised look. "Girl, you might have yourself a historical residence there."

Penelope looked hopeful, until Maude said, "Sorry. Last owners fifteen years ago tried to have it certified, but the state and the county turned them down. No proof. It's just old...like us."

That caused Zeke to burst out laughing. Both Derek and Penelope were smiling in spite of themselves.

"Nonsense, Maude," Penelope said. "You're only as old as you feel."

She chuckled. "Then I am older than dirt, honey, 'cause the barometer has my rheumatism acting up. I'm going to get us some cookies in back; you keep looking at paint colors."

Penelope decided on a few sunny colors for different rooms of the house, but then couldn't decide on what color she wanted for the bathrooms. She decided she'd ask Derek and went to go find him.

Zeke and Derek were wandering up and down the aisles. Again, he looked comfortable and at ease where he was, like he'd frequented musty old hardware stores everyday. She wandered quietly down the aisle next to them. She didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help but listen in to what they were saying.

They were chatting like old friends, with the opinionated older man telling Derek exactly what he'd do with the place.

"It's not my place, though," she overheard Derek say. "It's Penelope's."

"Pshaw. Possession is nine-tenths of the law. You get the house; you get the girl. Besides, it's right perfect. She needs a man to help her, and you're here," Zeke explained. "Looky how fate made things turn out."

In her mind's eye, Penelope could practically see Derek shuffling uncomfortably in his spot. "She's not my girl, Zeke. Remember?"

"Not yet, but she will be," he said with a cackle. "I know these things, and I know men like _you_. She won't be holding on to the memories of that nincompoop for much longer."

It was Derek's turn to chuckle then. She heard him clapping Zeke's shoulder. "Whatever you say, sir."

Penelope shook her head. She never would've taken the old man to be a matchmaker! She was kind of embarrassed. Derek was gently telling the man as politely as he could that it wasn't ever going to happen. She knew that; they were friends, even if she had felt a little hot under the collar earlier this morning.

For some reason, knowing she was right didn't make her feel any better.

"Cookies!" Maude said, coming around the corner.

"Thanks," Penelope said, reaching for the first offered cookie.

Maude looked at her with cool blue eyes. "What is bothering you?"

Penelope had just taken a bite of the heavenly oatmeal raisin cookie, and then looked at Maude, who was still staring at her. She swallowed hard. "Nothing."

Maude glanced down the aisle where Zeke and Derek were standing. "Oh... That."

Penelope could feel her cheeks heating intensely.

When she met Maude's gaze again, it was soft and gentle. "Honey, don't be feeling bad. It's all right to love again so quick after a break up."

Penelope blanched. Lord, she was transparent! "No, no...it's not like that."

Maude gave her the eye. "Maybe not for you, but my guess is that man has loved you for a long time."

"Nonsense," she scoffed quickly. "We're friends."

Maude shrugged and bit into her cookie. "Suit yourself."

Zeke and Derek made it to the counter with two heapingly full boxes of things and a dolly to bring it out to the truck. They'd already loaded three other boxes.

"Wow," she said, her eyes growing huge at the amount they were purchasing.

"This ought to do it. Miss Penelope," Zeke said, smiling at her warmly with his spare grin. "When you get that place ready for market, you can advertise in our store window for as long as it takes to sell."

"Thanks so much," she said, her heart overflowing with the graciousness of the Putnams.

"That's no small feat," Zeke said. "Took fifteen years to sell last time."

Her stomach sank, and her disappointment must've shown on her face, because Derek put an arm around her and Maude whacked her husband in the arm.

"Well, it's true," he said, rubbing his arm. "No reason to pussyfoot around what's right in front of you." He stared at Derek, and then jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow and winked. "Right, son?"

For the first time in the entire time she'd known him, she watched as Derek Morgan's cheeks turned pink.

"Why, Derek," she said playfully, ready to tease him mercilessly for this historic event.

He tossed an arm around her. "Not a word, _Penelope Pink Panties_," he murmured near her ear, causing her to blush and a riot of shivers to roll down her spine. His breath was warm and his voice rumbled with its delicious low tone. Both things made her feel heady and dizzy.

She shook off the feeling and smiled at the Putnams. "Thank you for the help and the cookies."

"Anytime," Zeke said.

"Come back and see us before you go," Maude added.

"Better yet, come to the dance this Saturday," Zeke added. "The VFW is having a dance in town here. Everyone's invited, veteran or not."

"Thanks for the offer," Penelope said. "We'll see."

They exited the shop, arms around each other, the tinkling bells above the door signaling their departure. They were quiet as Derek loaded the rest of the items in the truck, and then they headed towards the Apothecary Shoppe for ice cream.

A sign was on the door:

_Dance at the VFW. Saturday, Six PM. All Ages. Bill Wilson's Band. Beer, Corn Feed, and Pig Roast. Tickets $2 each. Benefit the Veteran's Fund._

Penelope paused, and then looked over at Derek. "That's two nights before you leave, and I don't want to rush you, but would you like to go?"

"Are you doing a Sadie Hawkins, Miss Penelope?"

He said the words slow and sweet, mimicking the last words with the slight country twang that Zeke had. Instead of sounding teasing, though, it had an endearing, hopeful quality. She looked in his deep brown eyes and noticed the same hopeful look there that had confused her before and made her think he was interested.

Something in her heart was telling her that maybe there was nothing to be confused about...

"That wasn't an answer, Derek Morgan," she replied, her voice thick with an emotion she was scared to death to face.

"I would love to go, Penelope Garcia."

"Then I will answer you, too," she replied. She was feeling very nervous, her heart beating faster than it had ever beat before. It felt like she'd been running a race. "I am doing a Sadie Hawkins, because she was a woman who faced her own destiny."

"She was."

It felt like the air was charged, like an electric storm was brewing between them. She could feel it, the intensity of what this meant, if she simply asked him to be hers, to try and see if the chemistry they had was still there. Her friends at the BAU had always said they were meant to be, but she had denied it because they knew she'd wanted him. But these strangers—Maude and Zeke—could see it, and that was so very hard to deny.

She licked her dry lips and said, "For the first time in my life, I am asking a man out on a date."

Derek smiled at her, and then held her hand, squeezing it gently. "Go ahead, sweetheart. Ask."

The smile on his handsome face was sweet and reassuring. It was the tender smile she'd known for the past seven years, the one that he gave her to calm her, comfort her, and care for her. She'd seen it so many time before.

It could've just been the smile of her best friend.

Or it could be a whole lot more.

She wanted to find out for sure.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "Will you go to the dance with me?"

He gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. "I would love to go...darlin'."

She smiled at his cute pretend accent. Although he sounded playful, she could tell by his eyes that he was anything but. She leaned more into his side. "It's a date, then, sugar."

He kissed the top of her head and opened the door to the apothecary. "That it is."

They were quiet for a moment, before she whispered, "Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"Now that we know there are real cowboys here, isn't it a good time to dig out those chaps?" she teased.

His chuckle was the last thing anyone passing by on the street would hear as the doors to the Apothecary Shoppe closed.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

_AN: Thanks for the reviews, guys! :) You make me so happy! (Squee! Hugs!)...I love how many of you liked the return of the chaps! hee hee...We think alike...and we like it old school!_

**Mishap and Massage**

Another two days passed, and things were completely back to normal. She'd flirted and teased with him like she always had, and they'd worked side by side, fixing up the old house. They started bright and early every morning, although Derek had thought that was an improbability for Penelope. She'd been a late riser most days back home in Quantico. They worked so hard that by the time they finished in the evenings, he was so tired, he would hit the pillows and not even have to try to sleep. His insomnia was completely cured.

They chatted a lot, too, about family, things she missed back in Quantico, and her life here in Fortune City. She painted a quaint picture of the town; he had a feeling she would miss it when she left.

However, there were things they didn't talk about. Kevin's name was never mentioned, and Derek wasn't going to make her bring him up. If Penelope wanted to talk about her ex, it would have to be on her own terms. He knew that, and he was patient.

Calling Quantico was something she hadn't done, either. He'd pushed a little on that—Hotch, JJ, and the rest of the team would love to hear from her—but she'd looked very uncomfortable and had changed the subject immediately.

The number one thing foremost on his mind, though, was that Penelope hadn't mentioned anything else about the dance. Derek had started wondering if he'd dreamed it up. It was what he'd always wanted—a chance to have a real date with her. It almost seemed too good to be true.

_Don't push, Morgan_, he told himself. _It's been less than three days, __and—_

Suddenly, Derek heard a muffled shriek, and then a crash next door. He dropped what he was working on and ran into the other room.

"Darn it!"

Penelope was sitting on her butt in the middle of the living room, near the wall, next to an overturned ladder and an upside down paint can. Surrounding her was a pool of sunny yellow paint.

He took a quick look at her and had to stifle a laugh. "Woman...are you okay?"

"Yes!" she snapped, and then sighed. "I'm sorry, I feel fine, but..."

"Need a hand?"

She was still looking all around her on the ground for something. She huffed, and then looked up at him. "I give up."

That surprised him. "On the house?"

She grinned. "No, silly. On standing up again. I have a painty butt; now I am going to have painty hands and be all covered liked a canvas."

"That's because you're a work of art, angel," he said, taking a step closer.

"Yeah," she groused. "One of those Picasso paintings that look like a big ol' mess."

"Hang on," he said. Finding a rare spot without paint, he stepped his foot in the middle of it. Placing hands on her waist, he lifted her straight upward.

"Ooh!" she cried, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Gently, he placed her on the floor, away from the spot. "There you go. No _painty_ hands."

She slapped his arm and frowned at him, her hands on her hips. "You! You shouldn't be doing that. You are going to hurt yourself, picking up strange, somewhat heavy women without warning."

He arched a brow at her, which quieted her immediately. "You could simply say 'thank you' and let _me_ worry about _me_."

She arched her brow back at him. "And you're good at doing that?"

He didn't say a word, just kept the same look he'd had before.

She blushed pink, and then sighed dramatically. "Thank you, but really, that... hey!"

Derek scooped her up in his arms again, headed to the stairs, and started taking them two by two. "I think you needed to change clothes, didn't you?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled, but she was a sweet shade of pink, and her blue eyes were dancing. She was pouting, too, which looked so much more adorable on her than it had on Kevin Lynch!

"I did have to clean up a paint spill before it dries," she mused, "but if I am getting elevator service..."

"I'll do it." He put her on her feet in the bathroom.

"Derek..."

"Change your cute yellow butt, and I will see you downstairs in a flash."

She saluted him and winked. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "Hurry up. We got work to do."

Turning to bound down the stairs, the last thing he heard was her giggle.

* * *

><p>By the end of a very long day, Derek was ready for some R and R. All in all, she'd put two coats of paint in the living room, the entry hall, and the mudroom, and then painted the crown molding and window frames, while he'd sanded, sealed, and buffed the wood floors in three rooms. Not only that, they'd cleaned all the sheep dung out of the yard and replaced the hay in the barn. Derek had never been a farm hand in his life, but he was enjoying it now.<p>

They were sitting on kitchen chairs, watching the floors dry. The low hum of the box fan that was aiding drying echoed in the sparsely furninshed room. The yellow, tan, and brown of the shiny floor was mezmerizing and lovely, probably because they were both so exhausted. They'd worked most of the day through, so they should've been exhausted. Watching the floor was similar to watching a campfire. They'd just finished eating turkey sandwiches, chips, and homemade pickles that Maude had given them.

Derek glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten, but he was too wired to sleep.

"It's really beautiful, isn't it, Hot Stuff?" she asked, staring at the gleaming wood in her living room. She was leaning against his shoulder, looking so content and happy.

While she watched the floor, he'd spent most of his time looking at her, watching strands of her hair that had escaped from her ponytail dancing in the breeze from the kitchen window. She looked tired, but pleased. Her eyes had lost any hint of sadness she'd had when he'd first seen her in Wyoming. Now, she looked strong, confident...like Penelope.

"Oh, yes," he murmured, letting his gaze settle on her like a caress. His voice was a touch husky, even to his own ears. "So beautiful."

She turned to look at him and caught where he was looking. He wasn't going to hide it; it was the truth, and he didn't lie to his girl.

She blushed just a bit, but it was a pleased flush, not one of embarrassment. "I..mmmm...You wanna watch a movie?"

He pointed into the living room with the drying floor. "Not accessible until tomorrow, honey."

"Well, I have a TV in my room," she said, and then blushed shyly and added, "if you wanna come up?"

He couldn't help it. He shot her a wicked, teasing grin. "Gonna have your way with me?"

"Ummmm...maybe," she teased back. She stood and immediately froze in a semi-hunched position. "I...oooh!"

That didn't look good. He stood and moved beside her quickly. "Are you okay?"

She brought her hands to her back. "I think I may have overdone it today."

"Damn," he said, feeling terrible and somewhat guilty. He should've encouraged them to take a rest, but they were having such fun and were on a roll.

"I'll be fine, honey. Don't worry," she said consolingly, taking a hesitant step forward. "If I can just lay flat, I can stretch it out."

"I can carry you—"

"No," she said quickly, stumbling just a bit before he could help right her. "I don't want to curl upward. I need to stay in this position for a minute. I'll just lay on the couch outside. It's closest"

"My bed is closest," he said. "Let's go to my room, and we'll see the damage."

He helped his hobbling best friend head toward his room, letting her use his arm for support. Each step was slow and deliberate.

"This better be fine by the dance tomorrow night," she grumbled.

Derek felt his heartbeat accelerate in his chest, as if Mario Andretti had hit the pedal controlling his pulse. He tried to keep his cool as he said, "Really?"

"I've been waiting six years for a real date with you, Derek Morgan," she told him, pausing to pant at the exertion walking caused. "I'm not going to let something as stupid at a bum back stop me."

They entered the room, and she eased down on her tummy. She was laying flat, her face in his pillow, and she mumbled something.

"What was that, sweetness?" he asked, leaning forward.

"This pillow smells like you," she said, sounding somewhat dreamy and sleepy.

"I hope that's a good thing."

"Very good," her muffled voice said again.

As he gently touched her back, moving his hands slowly down from her shoulder blades, he asked, "Hurt there? How's that feel?"

She groaned softly. "That feels good."

Derek took the hint and began massaging her back in slow circles, over her ribcage, and back up to her shoulders and neck. His hands were large, and she wasn't very big, even though she always tried to press that she was. His hands completely covered the caps of her shoulders; he gave them a gentle squeeze and knead. He worked over her upper back, her shoulders, touching, feeling, massaging.

He tried to keep his thoughts completely medicinal, but that was hard to do. Her shirt had bunched up when she'd laid down; he couldn't help wondering if her skin was as silky soft as it looked. Unable to fight the urge, he trailed his hands down to her low back, feeling the heat of her skin, and the electric zing from contact rolled through his entire body.

She gave a sigh of contentment. "You have magic hands, Mr. Morgan."

That encouraged him to continue, stroking her waist with even movements, moving over the curve of her waist to the flair of her hips. She had such a beautiful backside—all curves and perfectly rounded muscle—he'd never get tired of touching her.

Drawn by the need to explore, he slid his hands lower, brushing over the tight curve of her ass, before heading back up to her hips, her waist, and then just skimming under the edge of her shirt to...

Derek stopped himself. His body was thrumming with need, painfully aware of the gorgeous woman lying in his bed. Christ, he was there to help her back, and she was in no condition to make love. He needed to remember his objective and get out of there pronto.

"Derek?" Penelope slowly flipped back over to look at him.

"Ah...ummm...feeling better?" he blurted, trying to regain his composure.

"Yes," she said, looking up at him oddly.

"Good," he said quickly. "I'm going to hit the shower, and then it's time for bed. Can you make it upstairs?"

"I think so." Standing, she wobbled slightly on her feet.

Derek came over and helped her up the stairs and into her room. His body was still reacting to her nearness; he needed to get away before he did something really stupid.

"Goodnight, P." He began to head for the stairwell.

"Derek?" she asked, causing him to turn and look at her. His heart skipped a beat yet again.

Because he saw the same heat he felt reflected in her eyes.

"Goodnight," she whispered with a soft smile before she closed the door.

Derek headed back downstairs with his own thoughtful smile.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. I'm running around today—eight year old daughter has a party with other eight year olds goin' on-but I wanted to get this out for you all. Here comes the next chapter..._

**Taking Care of Business**

Penelope shut her bedroom door and leaned against it, a big smile on her face. She rested her palm and her cheek against the door. She couldn't remove that smile, even if she tried, for although every muscle in her body ached from the strenuous work she'd put in this week, she simply felt too good. In fact, she felt like she was flying.

All because of that look on Derek Morgan's face.

She'd had that same feeling when he'd flirted with her in the past. He'd said things that made her feel he was seriously interested in her, and she'd giggled and had gotten her hopes built up so high, only to have them crushed by a lack of true action. Not that she blamed him; she was just as guilty of never moving past the true and beautiful friendship that they had with one another.

Although, when she thought about it, really and truly dissected what had happened between them in the past six years, she knew deep down, it wasn't just friendship. It never had been. She'd been in love with Derek for as long, if not longer, than she had been with Kevin. She'd run to him first with problems, she'd shared her true dreams with him and her heart's desires, things she hadn't really shared with her estranged husband.

Kevin had never liked Derek. He'd tolerated him, but he'd never liked him. He'd said that Derek had never made a move to include him or be friends with him. However, looking back with a less sympathic eye for Kevin, she realized that it was the opposite a good portion of their relationship. It was Kevin that refused to call Derek by his first or last name—that was common in the FBI, to refer to a person by their last name. Instead, it was always _Agent Morgan, _like familiarity was not something Kevin had really wanted to breed.

She knew she made the animosity her husband had felt for her best friend. Inside, she knew—and Kevin must have known, too—that Derek was so much more to her.

Derek was her soul mate.

Wherever she would go, whatever she would do, she would thrive with Derek, like she had in Quantico. She thought back to her life on the farm. After she moved here, she'd been miserable a great portion of the time. This week, she'd been happy, having fun, smiling again. If she had to stay here, away from the internet, away from her friends—not that she wanted to—she would be fine with him. However, Derek—unlike Kevin—would never ask her to isolate herself. He would want her to thrive. He'd take care of her, and still let her soar and be herself. He was a true best friend, something Kevin had never really been.

She wondered now, in her heart of hearts, if Kevin's neediness—his clinginess and adoration he had of her—had been love at all. It seemed the simple things that Derek did—his support and his being there, his friendship and his strength when she needed it the most, along with his ability to back off when she needed to stand on her own two feet—rang true to what love was far more than what Kevin's "love" had been.

She was coming to a realization, leaning against the door in her bedroom. She'd married the wrong man. The one she should've waited for was in her house, less than twenty feet away. She should've waited forever, if need be.

Seeing the light in his eyes tonight when he'd kissed her forehead goodnight, the glowing embers of want that he couldn't hide...it would've been worth it.

Thinking of Maude Putnam telling her it was okay to love again so soon after a break up reminded her of the rebound effect. She loved Maude, the woman was adorable, but she was completely wrong. Penelope didn't consider Derek a rebound. How could he be a rebound, when he was the right choice in the first place? This wasn't a rebound relationship; it had been there all along. She was sure of how she felt, and she was pretty sure of how her Hot Stuff felt, too. Actions spoke louder than words, and Derek's actions all week—all of her life—told her he loved her.

They deserved this chance to clear the air and figure it out. They'd already had far too much time apart for her thinking. Estranged husbands and thoughts of rebound be damned; this was the right thing to do.

Tomorrow at the dance, she was going date Derek Morgan the way she'd always wanted to. She was going to lavish attention on him, kick her heels up and dance with him, and blow him away with how perfect they were together...just in case he had any silly notions left in his head that they were supposed to be just friends.

A girl couldn't be too cautious, after all!

But tomorrow, she needed to make a trip into Greeley, the biggest town nearby, all by herself, before she could do anything else.

* * *

><p>When she woke, Derek was already standing in the kitchen, his loose carpenter's shorts hanging low on his hips. He had a cup of coffee in his hands while he looked out the window over the sink at the sheep grazing. He didn't have a shirt on yet, and his jaw was bristly with whiskers, denoting that he needed a quick shave.<p>

She stood there for awhile, watching his gorgeous muscles move while he drank his coffee, before she said, "Hiya, handsome."

"Morning, baby" he said when she reached his side. He leaned down to kiss her cheek. He gave her a critical eye and nodded approvingly. "You look gorgeous and all dolled up. Where're you going?"

"Into the next town over," she explained. "I have some business to do there, and then I'll be home."

"You want me to come with?"

She shook her head. "No need, angelfish. You had plans to fix that hole in the barn floor; I can do this alone."

He gave her a worried frown over his mug. "You sure?"

"Positive. I'll be back before you know it," she answered, pouring her own cup of coffee and drinking it quickly.

Smiling back at her, he placed his coffee cup on the counter. "Nope. I always know when you're gone. The sun doesn't shine quite as brightly."

"Awww, you romantic soul, you," she teased, putting her cup down and hugging him. His smooth skin and strong muscles felt good against her cheek.

"I'm serious," he answered, cupping her chin. "The world is a better place with you in it."

"Ditto, sweet cheeks," she answered, raising on her tiptoes to kiss his nose.

He beamed at her, his arm around her as he walked her to the front door. "That made the leaving better. Hustle buns and get back here soon."

"Greeley is fifty minutes away, honey," she explained. "I won't be doing much hustling before the dance."

"Well, then, you'll have to dance with me the entire time to make up for being away so long."

She smiled at him teasingly as she climbed into the truck. "We'll see."

Derek leaned into the passenger window to give her a stern look. "Woman, you _are_ going to dance with me."

She crinkled her nose at him. "You're keeping me from leaving..."

"Little shit," he replied, but removed himself from the window. Tapping the top of the truck, he stepped away, and she saw him waving in the rearview mirror.

* * *

><p>Penelope was already dressed and ready for the party by the time she'd returned home. After finishing her business, Penelope had been ready to leave the town, when she'd passed Fancy Flo's Beauty Parlor. Next door was Shelley's dress shop. She'd looked in the window and touched her own hair. It had been forever since she'd had a cut, not to mention a color. She hadn't bought a new dress in forever, either.<p>

So, she'd splurged on herself for the first time in forever. She wanted so badly to look good and feel good before this date tonight; the stakes were so high. By the time she'd left the beauty shop, she'd felt exactly like the fierce goddess she used to be, only better, wiser, and more self-confident.

Driving up to the house, she parked in her spot, and then stepped out of the truck. Derek came out on the front porch step a moment later, dressed in dark blue jeans and a handsome charcoal gray fitted Henley shirt that showed off his muscles to perfection. He looked good enough to eat.

"There you are..." he began, but his words trailed off as he watched her approach.

Her hair was back to its original blonde glory, a mix of her original darker honey hue and tons of highlights that Flo had expertly applied to her hair. Her cut was flirty layers that showed off her natural curl, body, and shine. Her hot coral sundress, bolero jacket, and strappy espadrilles with sparkles accented her tan and were a spicy contrast to her turquoise toenails and fingernails.

"Whoa, woman." His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes burned with the flames of obvious masculine appreciation for a beautiful woman.

His look made all the money she'd spent worth it.

"Hi, Hot Stuff," she said, swishing her skirt. "Do you like it?"

He grinned at her, watching her so closely, as if he were afraid she'd disappear. "Like is far too mild a word. I should be calling you Hot Stuff."

She'd known that was how he was feeling...but it still felt good to hear it!

She beamed back at him and offered her arm to him. "So, my delectable date. Are you ready to go to a dance? I'm being very formal, picking you up at your door."

"Oh, yes," he said, playing along as he looped his arm around hers. "And I asked my mother...I don't have to be home anytime soon."

"Well, that's a good thing," she said, opening the passenger door for him, "since I don't plan on getting you home until much, much later."

He tsked his tongue. "I don't know...that was very wolfish, Penelope Garcia."

"And you love it, Derek Morgan."

He fastened his seat belt with that same irrepressible grin. "Yes, I do."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

_AN: Thanks so much for reviews. I am running late, but I am finally free. Please forgive me!_

**The Summer Dance**

One look at Main Street and anyone with eyes and ears would know something big was happening this evening; Fortune City was dressed up to the nines. The shops out front had buntings of the nation's flag displayed proudly over their windows and small "closed for the barbecue" signs hanging in the doorways.

However, as far as decorating went, the VFW took the cake. There were solar lights and candle luminaries burning up the sidewalk to the entrance way. Out front were flags from all four branches of the armed services, with a larger, more prominent national flag in the center. Children played out front, while grandparents and parents—in and out of uniform—watched and chatted amongst themselves.

As Derek lead Penelope up the sidewalk, he could hear the strains of the Bill Wilson band. They sounded somewhat country, somewhat rock—a rockabilly blend, like Elvis Presley had been. He was so proud to have the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen on his arm. When she'd stepped out of the car, he'd been taken aback. She looked like a princess, a goddess, a dream come true.

In other words, she looked like his Baby Girl again.

This week had played havoc with his heart and his soul, reminding him time and time again why he loved her like he did. This was one strong, incredible woman, and he never wanted to let her go again. No one touched him as deeply, made him feel as strongly, as Penelope Garcia.

"This is incredible, isn't it, Hot Stuff?" she asked, squeezing his arm. She was taking in all the sights, the décor, and the people, and he could tell she was thrilled.

"Yes, baby, it is," he said, placing his hand on hers and squeezing it tight.

"Well, lookie there!" Zeke Putnam called from over in the corner. He was wearing a rather new looking checkered button up shirt, dark blue jeans, and a bright pair of suspenders. Standing next to him was Maude, dressed just as prettily in a stylish, somewhat matronly flowered dress.

"Well, don't you look prettier'n a peach in a newly baked cobbler!" she said, coming over and hugging Penelope. She glanced over at Derek, and then winked at Penelope. "He's not too bad, either."

"You look gorgeous, Mrs. Putnam," Derek said, bending over her hand and kissing it.

"Get your own girl, Derek," Zeke said, tugging Maude away in pretend outrage, kissing her cheek with a loud smack. "She's all mine."

Derek pulled Penelope closer to himself. "I did, thank you very much."

Derek heard Penelope's soft gasp of surprise, and for a moment, he worried about his public display. He worried immediately that he was moving too fast. These people knew her as a newlywed, and here he was, laying claim to her.

He thought about that horrible comment he'd heard Lynch say when he'd left a few weeks ago, how he'd encouraged people to think that Penelope had been sleeping with both him and Lynch. He'd been outraged; he'd never do anything to disrespect Penelope in that fashion. He couldn't lie; he'd always wanted her, but he was a gentleman, and he knew Penelope wasn't the kind to cheat—nor would he ask her to. He hoped Penelope didn't think—

His worries were alleviated a second later, when she leaned into his arm even closer. "Actually, I'm the one who asked him to the dance."

"Smart girl," Maude said with a nod. "Like I always say, she who hesitates is lost."

Zeke gave her an odd look. "Where'd you get that?"

"Fortune Cookie from Chin Lee's in Greeley," Maude replied, her eyes twinkling, showing that she was teasing. Obviously, Maude was the brains in the Putnam operation!

"Young man," an older gentleman said, coming over from the doorway. He had a shock of white hair and a thick handlebar mustache. He was dressed in full dress uniform from the Marines. "Were you a soldier?"

Derek shook his hand. "Marine Corps, sir."

The older gentleman smiled. It was such a faint, stoic smile; only his mustache shifted. "Can always tell another military man. Welcome to town. I'm Lincoln Maine, served in Vietnam. Did you see combat?"

"No, sir, I didn't," Derek replied. "I was in Kosovo, but more on a peace keeping mission."

"I didn't know you were over there," Penelope murmured, holding onto his arm just a touch tighter, like she was still afraid for him. She would've been the kind of girlfriend he'd always wished he'd had, one that wrote and sent care packages. He thought about some of the ones his platoon mates had. One guy had even had naked pictures and videos of his girlfriend.

Immediately, images of Penelope, young and in love with him, naked and posed, ran through his mind like a movie...

Derek snapped out of that train of thought before he embarrassed himself.

"Don't worry, young lady; he made it back in one piece," Lincoln said, granting that faint smile to Penelope. "Some of our boys didn't."

With that, the older man walked away, that haunted look still in his eyes.

Penelope clung tighter to Derek's arm. "I'm so glad you came home," she whispered fiercely.

Derek knew he was one lucky SOB. He'd seen a lot, but nowhere near what some of these other gentlemen had seen.

"I'm glad I did, too."

"Kids, come get some barbecue," Maude said, coming back with a full plate. "You've never had real barbecue until you've eaten Western barbecue."

"What makes it special?" Derek asked. "I've been to Memphis—"

"All sauce and spice," Zeke grumbled.

"Kansas City?"

"Too much hickory," Zeke complained.

"And Texas?" Derek added, trying to suppress a grin and failing miserably.

"All heat and smoke."

"So...what's Wyoming?" Penelope questioned.

"Why, sauce and spice and hickory and heat and smoke," Zeke replied with a massive grin. "All put t'gether!"

Derek gave Penelope a squeeze, wiggling his eyebrows in approval. "That sounds too good to be true. Ready for a sandwich?"

"Mmmhmm!" P squeezed him back and licked her lips. "I think I was born ready."

* * *

><p>After enjoying some very good barbecue, Derek was talked into joining a corn eating contest. He loved sweet corn, but not anywhere near the twenty-eight cobs the winner had. It was for a worthwhile cause—new tables and chairs for the VFW—so he didn't mind the fifty dollar entry fee.<p>

"Still think you can have a beer?" Martin "Scout" Michaels, another Marine from the Gulf War, mentioned. "Or are you too full to enjoy a brewski?"

Derek scoffed. "I'm never too full for a beer."

Most of the veterans in the town were friendly, outgoing, and enjoying life. They'd adjusted well to their return from combat and/or service. They'd accepted him and Penelope into the fold without question. It made Derek proud to be one of them.

Penelope put her arm around him. "D, are you sure? Ten cobs of corn is a whole lot."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," he said. He knew he would be, too; the bubbles would help him belch, and he needed that more than anything.

"Got room for pie?" Maude asked, coming around the corner. "I baked a coconut cream that will bring tears to your eyes."

"Ooh," Penelope whispered in awe.

Derek knew that was her favorite pie, so he'd expected that response.

"Go ahead, baby," he murmured, giving her a gentle squeeze before releasing her. "Enjoy the pie and the talk with the ladies. I'll be here with the boys."

Smiling, Penelope leaned up and kissed his cheek. "All right. Have fun."

He smiled, feeling the spot on his cheek tingle with feeling. "You, too, sweetheart."

* * *

><p>Time certainly flew when he was having a good time. Derek had stood there, nursing that beer for about an hour with the other men, just shooting the breeze. He could see Penelope, sitting in a circle with the women, eating pie and chatting. She stood out from the rest of the crowd, so beautiful and colorful. It was one of the things he'd always loved. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.<p>

He hadn't really noticed that a lot of the younger and older people in the crowd had dispersed for the evening and that the band was taking a breather for a longer period of time. It wasn't until they lowered the lights that he saw the other men clearing the dance floor.

"C'mon, Derek," Scout said, clapping his shoulder with his hand. "Gonna stand there all day and gape at your girl?"

Derek chuckled. He'd been caught yet again.

"Help me move these tables!"

He downed his beer. "I'm coming."

Fifteen minutes later, the tables and chairs were cleared, the band was back, and the couples were crowding the dance floor. It was time to get his girl and make her dance with him. She always turned him down in Quantico; he sure hoped she wouldn't do it here.

Derek wandered over to where Penelope was sitting and offered his hand to her. "Dance with me, Baby Girl?"

Smiling shyly, she slid her hand into his and said, "It would be my pleasure, Hot Stuff."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

AN: Thanks for the reviews. I am rushing again, so please forgive me...

**Dancing and Dreams Come True**

Penelope was so nervous as she took Derek's hand and went to the dance floor. When it came to dancing, Penelope had two left feet. She'd always wished she had more natural grace than she did, but that was not one of her many talents.

"Just a warning, Hot Stuff," she whispered as he took her hand and lead her to the floor. "I'm a terrible dancer."

"Really?" he remarked, like he didn't quite believe her. He moved her effortlessly onto the dance floor and placed one hand on her low back, the other still holding hers. They began to sway to the music, picking up the rhythm of the drums.

"Yes," she sputtered quickly. "I mean, I've been dancing since I was sixteen with other boys, and I've always stepped on their toes, and—"

"Sweetheart," he said, interrupting her, "you're dancing just fine with me now, aren't you?"

Once she stopped talking, she realized she was following the nuances. Every little guide and turn he cajoled from her, every sway to the crescendos of the music, he caught and she followed. She was dancing, really dancing; compared to the other couples on the floor, she and Derek were probably one of the better pairs.

"Wow," she said with no small amount of awe to her voice.

"People who think they are bad dancers really just had bad partners," he explained.

"I _was_ the bad partner, D."

"Nonsense. Anyone with charisma and a love for music like you has to be a great dancer," he said with a smile "It's one of the reasons I've always wanted to dance with you."

She smiled, just before he turned her in his arms again without missing a beat. "So...what are the other reasons?"

"I would take any excuse to hold you closer." As if punctuating his words, he pulled her close into his embrace and dipped her slightly, holding her there before helping her stand again.

Her heart was beating triple speed in her chest. "That's funny...it was one of the reasons I didn't dance with you."

He gave her a questioning look. "Why is that?"

"I never trusted myself around you," she replied honestly.

She watched as his eyes darkened to nearly black and his smile faded, to be replaced with a look of deep longing and intensity.

"Oh, angel girl," he whispered huskily, shaking his head slowly back and forth, those black eyes glittering obsidian now. "Don't say things like that to me."

The heat, the electric fire, sizzled between them like so many times before. But this time, instead of backing away, instead of wondering if it was real or doubting the reason for it, Penelope fell deeper into the feeling. With every fiber of her being, she knew the truth, and she welcomed the beginning pulse of want low in her belly.

"My turn to dance with this girl," Zeke said, coming up and tapping Derek's shoulder.

Derek gave her one long last look, before leaning down and kissing her cheek. "We'll talk more later."

Then he stepped away and let Zeke take his spot on the floor.

* * *

><p>After Zeke danced with her, several of the other soldiers insisted on taking a spin with her on the dance floor. Derek danced with the other ladies, too; she realized that must be the way things were at country socials. She knew she was never far off of his mind; he'd follow her with his eyes and smile or wink at her to let her know he was there. It was both nerve wracking and thrilling.<p>

Finally, a slower song started, and she was back where she'd wanted to be for the last hour: in Derek's arms.

She was resting on his shoulder, her arms around his neck. He rested his cheek against the top of her hair, while his hands roamed over her hips and her lower back. As usual, wherever Derek touched her, her body felt charged, energized with his electricity. It was a highly pleasurable place to be, nestled close to him, in his arms.

They swayed softly, back and forth, enjoying the feel of each other's presence. Softly, Derek kissed the top of her head.

"I knew this would be magic," he murmured thickly, his words deep and low, mesmerizing her. "Holding you, dancing with you."

"Magic," she replied with a sigh, nuzzling closer to him.

"But it's not just magic, Baby Girl," he whispered. "It's you, and what you do to me."

She smiled back, teasing just a bit like usual. "It must be Wyoming. All the sunsets and sheep do things to a man."

Bringing a hand up, he cupped her chin and made her look at him. The look in his eyes, in those dark chocolate depths, promised paradise and spoke of forever, without even saying a word.

"Baby Girl, it's you and nothing but you. You're the magic in my life; Wyoming has nothing to do with it."

"Derek..."

"Penelope, I love you," he said. "You know that, right?"

"How much?" she whispered, her heart swelling so huge, she didn't know if she could say another word. A part of her was ready to run with it, and another recently scarred and scared part of her heart demanded clarification. They'd said those words before, after all...

He interrupted her thinking by picking her hand off his chest and kissing it.

"As much as I am, and all I will ever be. With you, even the air I breathe is sweeter," he replied, cupping her face in his hands. "That, Baby Girl, is how much I love you. How much I have _always_ loved you."

"Oh, Derek," she whispered, tears running down her face.

"Sweetheart, I would like a chance to show you exactly how much. I know it's too soon, and I don't mean to push—"

"No," she said, turning her head to kiss his palm. "Not too soon. Never too soon."

She spoke the truth. It wasn't. There'd been years of pent up longing between them. She was more inclined to think they were overdue.

He stared at her with a tender look on his face that said what words couldn't. She could tell he was as nervous and excited as she felt. Neither of them realized that the band had ceased playing.

"Well, well, well," Zeke said, coming up behind them. "Dancing to the ghost band?"

"Don't need music when you're young and in love," Maude said, winking at Penelope. "It's magic."

"Young has nothing to do with it," Zeke added, pulling Maude into his arms. "I still hear the _Blue Danube_ every time I dance with you."

Maude colored prettily. "Oh, Zeke..."

Penelope leaned against Derek's arm and watched the happy older couple with a soft smile on her lips.

"Tired?" he murmured against her hair, before placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

She nodded and smiled up at him. "Take me home."

* * *

><p>Driving home, Penelope's heart was fluttering in her chest. She was full of nervous excitement and anticipation after what he had said to her on the dance floor, but she was also nervous because he seemed different now that they were in the truck.<p>

After Derek had walked her to the truck, he'd made chit chat about the dance—the food, the soldiers, and the music—but he hadn't mentioned what had happened on the dance floor. He hadn't held her hand and had barely looked in her direction. His facial expression wasn't anything different, but both hands were on the steering wheel, and his knuckles were whitening from his grasp.

His reaction made her wonder: did he regret what he'd said? Had he been swept up in the moment, under the romantic lights and soft music? Now that they were in the cold light of reality, was it somehow different?

"Here we are," he said, pulling the truck into the parking spot on the side of the house. He exited his side of the truck, and like a good date, opened her door. As she stepped out, he put his arm gently around her waist.

They'd left the front porch lights on; the gentle illumination spilled out into the front lawn. A few lights were lit in the house also. It reminded her of a scene from _The Waltons_ or _Little House on the Prairie_.

When they reached the top step, she turned and placed her hands on his chest. "I think this is as far as you should go," she said with a teasing country accent. "My pa could be waiting up with a shotgun."

He smiled down at her, a slow, devastatingly appealing smile that proved he was anything but disinterested. "Is that so?"

She nodded. "So you'd better steal a goodnight kiss quickly, before he comes out."


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

_AN:Thanks for the reviews, you rockin' bunch...Here comes our latest installment..._

_Warning: Strong sexual content_

**Making Magic**

Sometimes, like at this moment, Derek had a feeling Penelope didn't know him as well as she thought she did. Her last statement, asking him to steal a goodnight kiss "quickly," was an entire contradiction to what he planned to do. He wasn't going to steal anything; she was going to give to him willingly everything she had to give, because that's what he was going to give her in return.

It sure as hell wasn't going to be quick, either. He'd waited _six years _for this kiss; he wasn't about to rush this. He'd kept his hands off of her in the truck—the hardest thing he'd had to do in forever, considering she was inches away, looking like heaven, her alluring scent reeling him in.

But then, maybe she did know...After all, she knew he wasn't the best at following directions...

Slowly, he brought his fingers up to caress her cheek. Her skin, soft and delicate, always fascinated him. Every part of her did that to him. He could touch her for hours, if he were ever allowed the opportunity. He would make a study of her, memorizing every texture, every contour of her delectable body. She was, without a doubt, his favorite subject.

At the same time as he caressed her cheek, he ran his hand down her back, pressing her forward just the slightest amount, encouraging and enticing her to come forward. Penelope looped her arms around his shoulders and took a large step, just like any woman would do if she were about to be kissed by her boyfriend.

Derek bit back a smile. He believed very highly in the art of anticipation, of building want and layering passion. He didn't jump into anything, not when it was a sensual discovery waiting to happen. Certainly not this moment. This was one he was never going to forget.

Softly, he began placing kisses at her temple while stroking his hand down her back, stopping at the ripe curve of her perfect bottom. She had a butt that put J. Lo's to shame, and yet, she didn't realize it. It was perky, uplifted, and more than a handful...exactly what he wanted.

As her warm vanilla and pear scent, so intoxicating and tasty, entered his senses, he drew her into his body even closer. Her long legs entwined with his, her breasts pressed against his chest, and he reveled in the perfect fit of their bodies. He kissed his way across the velvety texture of her cheek, brushed his lips lightly over hers, before lifting his mouth and placing a kiss on her pert, upturned nose.

Her eyes were closed, and he could feel her breaths coming quicker. Her fingers were entwined in the cotton of his Henley shirt now, and her lips were pursed in anticipation. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, and he could see the dark, swirling heat within those depths—the exact same heat he could feel roaring through his body.

Then, and only then, did he lower his lips to hers.

Pure magic exploded within Derek, and blissful, sweet exploration took a turn to passion. The hand that had been caressing her cheek moved to the back of her neck, drawing her even closer and tilting her for the full exploration of his mouth. She was sweet, delectable, and so damn tasty, he'd never get enough of her mouth.

He licked at her bottom lip, and she opened her mouth, allowing the sweep of his tongue against hers. He tasted every surface, every delicious nook and secret crevasse her lips were hiding. She was wine and honey, everything poetic and beautiful that he would've written down, if he were that kind of man. He was a romantic just as much as he was a stud; he was the kind of man who liked passionate and soft as much as he liked hot and dirty. He liked them in equal measure, with just as much fervor for both.

"Damn, baby," he murmured against her lips, before he trailed his mouth down the column of her neck, feeling the rapid fire beat of her pulse. Her breath was unsteady, as was his. Their kiss had been marathon long; he'd barely allowed her a breath in his all fired need to consume her.

In the span of their kiss, her hands had moved up from his shirt to cup his head; she tugged at his ears to get his mouth to return to hers. Giving as good as she took, Penelope was the aggressor this time, devouring him while she offered herself. He felt the silky smoothness of her tongue as it stroked against his, making teasing forays into his mouth. It was hot, passionate, and so out of control. He couldn't stop the kisses, couldn't ignore the thrusting hardness of his erection pressed against her belly. He was lost, drowning in desire, like he had never been before in his life.

He'd always wanted her, but now...he was truly ravenous.

Until he remembered she was still a married woman by law. He was many things, but he was not an adulterer, nor would he ask her to be one.

"Baby," he whispered, pulling his mouth away, despite her protests. He needed to put an end to this while he still could. Praying he could resist, he—

Penelope put both of her hands on his face and looked up at him with dark eyes that had turned midnight blue with passion. "Take me upstairs, Hot Stuff."

"Penelope—"

She rose on her tiptoes, looping her arms around him again. "Make love to me, Derek."

The rough edge of want burned in him as cold rose in his gut. He wanted this more than he wanted to breathe, but he knew he couldn't do it. "Baby Girl...I never should've let this go this far. Not until Lynch is truly gone. Damn it, I—"

Penelope placed two fingers over his mouth. "He was truly gone for me when I signed and filed the papers this morning."

Derek's heart began to pound harder in his chest. "This morning, when you were in Greeley?"

"Mmm hmm," she said with a short nod, before looking at him somewhat shyly. "Now, may I ask you again?"

"Hell, no." Smiling, Derek swept her up in his arms. "Baby, you never have to ask me twice."

* * *

><p>In the semi-darkness of the room, she kicked off her high heels and stood facing out at the bright August moonlight. Derek moved to stand behind her; with his coarse fingertips, he slowly dragged her sweater off. Each patch of skin he revealed, he kissed—the cap of her shoulder, her shoulder blade. He drew the zipper down on the back of her dress and lowered the straps, causing it to slide off her body and pool at her feet.<p>

She turned, clad in only her bra and panties, and reached her hands to the edge of his shirt. Tugging that over his head, she deliberately trailed her fingers down over his pecs and his segmented abs to get to the waistband of his jeans, causing him to inhale sharply.

"All those days I watched you without your shirt, Hot Stuff," she whispered, trailing her fingertips back up again. "I always wanted to do that."

"Sweetheart, I'm all yours." He held her hand in his and kissed those teasing fingers. "Anytime you want to touch me, you can."

"That's dangerous talk, Morgan." To accentuate her words, she slid her free hand back down and cupped over the bulge of his erection.

Derek closed her eyes as his body pulsed under her ministrations. It was dangerous, but he'd always loved living on the edge...

Penelope undid the button on his jeans and pulled the zipper down. She was watching downward, staring at his lower belly below his navel while she revealed that expanse of skin, a look of curiosity and desire on her face.

Deciding to help her, he grinned and took a step back. He tugged a condom out of his wallet, and then returned it to his pocket. Then, reaching for his waistband, he thrust both his boxers and jeans down to his knees.

Still looking downward, she gasped and stared, and then gaped up at him, which just made him grin all the more at her. There were certain moments that gave a man pride, and the look on her face right now definitely qualified as one of those moments.

However, that was enough playing for now. There would be time for more of that later; now, he had to have her. He reached forward, enfolding her into his arms, and began kissing her again—rich, deep kisses that melted his heart and joined her with him. It was like a brand on his being, a tattoo on his soul that marked him as hers.

She swayed against him, leaning and shaking as his kisses affected her, too. It was a heady, powerful sensation, knowing that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He reached behind her, releasing her bra. He made love to her breasts, spending a long time kissing, sucking, nibbling on the raspberry tips, brushing his whiskers on the faint blue lines under the ivory skin. She was so exquisitely made, each perfect peak made for his mouth and hands. As he drew on a tip again, her knees buckled, and she gripped at him to keep standing.

Scooping her up in his arms, he lay her on the bed, following her down to lay by her side. He slid her panties down her legs, pausing to lift one foot and kiss one turquoise painted toe, before removing them completely. He cupped her ankle, slid his hand slowly up her leg to her soft inner thigh, and then to the thatch of hair between.

"Derek," she groaned breathlessly as he eased a finger between her lower lips, stroking lightly. She was so sensitive, even the slightest touch caused her to writhe and arch her hips. He circled her clit, feeling the echoing pulse of the erect little bundle, and then traced a circle around her opening.

She was wet and hot, scalding against his fingertip. Silky soft, slick—the very thought of easing into her body caused a welling of precum to spurt from his cock. He eased a finger inside her tightness, and she gasped. Her hot breath came out in pants he could feel against his cheek, as he felt her muscles pulse and grip his finger.

"Please...now...please," she cried, arching her hips against his hand. "Please..."

"Hush, baby," he murmured in a soothing tone, moving his mouth down to suckle her nipple, intending to give her more pleasure.

Frantically, she reached for him, tugging at him, trying to pull him on top of her. Her eyes were wild, pleading as she whispered, "Please...I want to be with you...I want you inside me when I come."

With wordless acquiescence, Derek tore the condom packet, removed the sheath, and donned it. Leaning forward to kiss her lips, he knelt between her legs and thrust deeply, filling her thoroughly. Two small strokes, and she arched and shook. He watched as her eyes darkened, listened to her scream of pleasure, and felt her legs shaking with the release.

God, it was heaven inside her. She was so tight, squeezing him so perfectly, it took every effort he had not to slam into her and finish this. But he didn't. Instead, he watched as she had the first orgasm he'd ever given her, watched as she beautifully climaxed and fell apart in his arms...and knew it wasn't going to be the last. Not even for tonight.

When she came down from the high, she smiled up at him with supreme pleasure. "Wow. That was incredi...oooooh."

She'd stopped speaking and became wide eyed with wonderment when he withdrew nearly all the way, and then slowly sunk back inside her inch by inch. He did that same movement again, and again, and again, as he balanced his weight on his hands above her. Her eyes were closed now; she was licking her lips, swallowing convulsively as he continued the slow, steady strokes. His muscles were straining with the effort, he was sweating, but it was worth every second of the torture to see the indescribable pleasure on her face.

"Oh...oh, my God!" she cried, arching her hips against him. "Oh, Derek..."

"Wrap your legs around me," he ordered, wanting to be with her this time.

Nodding, she obeyed, and he made his thrusts faster and deeper, piston like movements in and out of her slick heat. He hissed his pleasure, grinding his hips against hers with each plunge into her depths. The feel of the friction tempered by the sweet wetness made the world go dark, until there was nothing but her and this moment. He gritted his teeth against the pleasurable pain, staving off his own satisfaction, before kissing her again and again. And then he felt her squeezing, shaking, as she fell over the edge again, crying out as she rode along the wave of her orgasm.

Derek thrust hard one more time, gripping her hips with both of his hands, raising her to meet his thrust. He groaned against her mouth—a muffled roar—as he pulsed and tingled over and over and found his release in her.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

A_N: Hi, All...Thank you for the reviews; they really brighten my day...I know I am going uber fast here, but I have to do it to get this done before the start of season seven...So, without further adieu, here comes the next chapter..._

**Comfort and Confrontations**

Penelope woke slowly and happily to the sounds of light snoring. It was a breathy sound, with the occasional sigh intertwined; it was really kind of a cute snore, if there was such a thing. She slowly opened her eyes and watched the handsome man next to her.

Derek was flat on his stomach, his arms folded under his pillow, with his head turned to the side. She hadn't anticipated that he would be a tummy sleeper; that seemed young and vulnerable to her, and Derek didn't give off a vulnerable vibe. He seemed so strong and invincible—a veritable fortress of strength and determination in his waking life.

She wasn't surprised at all he was still sleeping. They'd made love twice more during the night, taking the time to explore each other's bodies. She'd learned a lot of surprising things about him and herself, like his remarkably tickly belly button and his slight foot fetish—and her own ticklish big toes.

Now that she thought about it, he'd seemed to have a fetish when it came to _all_ of her body parts. He'd treated each part of her body like it was something precious and infinitely delicious. He'd caressed, kissed, licked, tickled, and enjoyed his discoveries as much as she had...maybe more. She'd never felt so worshiped, cherished, and loved in bed before.

Her heart swelled, and tears prickled the back of her eyes. She should've expected that reverence. Derek treated her with love and honor in their friendship every day of their lives; why would making love change that?

Smiling to herself as the warmth of love washed over her, she decided she wanted to honor him this morning by making him breakfast in bed. She had some fresh strawberries in her refrigerator; she could whip up a baked pancake in a heartbeat.

Turning over, she started to roll the opposite way in the bed, when a long arm snaked out around her waist and stopped her.

Awake now, he arched a brow at her and gave her a mock stern look. "Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

Maybe it was something about being so in love, but she thought he was so adorable at that moment. His cheek had pillow creases, and his eyes were still just a touch puffy, indicating to her that he was still sleepy. She patted his cheek while her heart zinged.

"Go back to bed, honey," she ordered. "You look so sleepy."

A second later, he rolled her underneath him and pinned her arms above her head. That sleepiness was gone, to be replaced by a look of pure hunger. She could also feel the heat of his erection pressed against her inner thigh.

"I'm not so sleepy," he growled, lowering his head to layer kisses along the side of her neck.

My, he woke up quickly!

"But I was going to make breakfast," she whined in a faux fashion—she didn't want him to stop for anything, much less food—before he caught her mouth in a hungry kiss. When he broke away from her, they were both panting heavily.

He rested his forehead against hers. "Woman…I can't leave tomorrow without you."

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest. "Derek…"

"Being apart from you once in my lifetime was enough for me," he said, those dark, intense eyes boring into hers. "Don't make me do it again."

A loud pounding on the front door ended all conversation.

"Penny! Are you home?" Kevin's unmistakable voice called out from below them.

Her eyes widened as she stared up at Derek.

"Don't answer him," Derek remarked with a scowl.

"I saw your truck, Penelope, and Agent Morgan's car. I know you're there," he called out in a self-satisfied tone.

She looked up at Derek, biting her bottom lip. This was awkward, but she needed to deal with him.

Derek must've sensed her thoughts, because he rolled off of her and put his arm over his eyes.

She heard rattling of the doorknob. "O.M.G. You _changed _the locks? I am still your husband; we need to talk, Penny!"

Penelope stood and slid on her robe. Derek also moved as if to stand up, but she put a hand on his shoulder, halting him.

"Baby, let me—"

She shook her head. "No, D. Stay here, please. I need to do this myself."

Derek hesitated for only a moment, before he stood. Cupping her face in his hands, he reassured, "You need me, I'm a breath away."

She kissed him, and then slid on her slippers and went downstairs to open the front door.

"Penny…" Kevin said, his eyes huge and glistening with tears behind his glasses. "Wow...You look...Wow."

Watching him, Penelope thought about a time when those tears in his eyes used to move her. She used to think that he was such a wonderfully emotional man, not afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve. Now, she took them more as a ploy for attention, as if he were an errant child, looking for comfort from his mother when he truly didn't deserve it.

"What do you want, Kevin?" she asked, her face unmoving and stoic.

"Penny," he whispered, coming closer. "I…I am so sorry! I know I was wrong, but I am so, so, so, so sorry. I want to explain why I did it."

"It?" she asked, raising her brows in a sardonic gesture. "You mean ruining my dreams. That's what you did, Kevin. You should call it that."

He blanched and looked truly apologetic. "I know…I know I did...that. I'm sorry. I _love _you!"

She still didn't move.

"I have a reason for what I did," he said, shuffling his feet slightly against her new shiny wood floors and leaving black tennis shoe marks. "Penny, I wanted to make a life here. I really did. When I realized I couldn't, I had to fix it."

"You kept me from my friends, my family."

"I know!" he cried. "But if you'd talked to them, they would say things to make you leave, and I couldn't risk that. I love you too much!"

She shook her head. He had such copious amounts of tears, even his glasses were fogging up. He seemed so…pathetic to her now.

"Kevin. I think you should go now."

As she turned to leave, Kevin made a grab for her and knocked over the small lamp in entry way with a crash. The lamp shattered, and Penelope jumped back.

"I'm sorry! That was an accident. I…_Morgan_?" Kevin exclaimed incredulously, looking at the stairwell.

Derek had thrown on his shirt and jeans haphazardly and was coming down the stairs with a concerned look.

Kevin's eyes narrowed, and he turned to face Penelope. "Morgan? You _slept_ with him? In _our_ bed?"

Penelope shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "It's not your bed anymore."

Kevin let out a bitter chuckle of disgust and turned his attention to Derek. "Well, look at you_. Congratulations,_ you won. After all these years, you _finally_ get what you wanted...a piece of her ass."

"Lynch, I'm warning you...Watch your mouth," Derek growled with menace.

Kevin faced Penelope again, a nasty little smile curving his lips. "Tell me; did he wait an hour or a minute after I left to start seducing you? How long did it take you to fall into bed with-"

"You son of a bitch!" Derek cursed, not waiting for Kevin to finish. He was taking the steps two at a time to get to where they were standing.

"Derek, no!" Penelope said, placing her hands on his chest. She gave him a look, reminding him that it was her fight.

"Since minute one, you tried to tear us apart!" Kevin snarled. "Everyone knew you wanted this; _you_ made this marriage fail! Because of you—"

"No, Kevin, because of _you_!" Penelope snapped back. "Everything that happened here was your fault. You did this; no one else."

He scoffed."Yeah, really, I—"

"Be quiet!" she snapped, feeling her ire rising to the breaking point. "I wasted a good portion of my life on you, now you need to listen. You _owe_ me that much, so sit down and shut up!"

Kevin took a seat on the dilapidated couch.

"Derek had nothing to do with this. All he has ever done is love, support, and care for me from the first moment I met him. You, on the other hand, wouldn't know love if it bit you on your flat ass!"

Kevin gasped. "That is patently untrue! You _know_ I love you."

She glanced at Derek with a soft smile, before glaring back at Kevin. "Derek trusts me to be free, listens to me and my wants, and is strong enough to support me without smothering me. You've done none of that, Kevin, and it is all that you should've done.

"All I wanted was a chance to work on a dream and to feel free from pain and hurt and losing another friend to a violent end. I ran before I could have anything taken from me anymore." She took two more steps toward Kevin, and stared down at him. "And I trusted you to be honest with me and to want what was best for me. That is my part of this, but you get the rest of the blame.

"Love is a two way street, Kevin," she said softly. "Supporting and being supported, comforting and completing one another."

"Then this is over?" Kevin asked, standing, a flat look on his face.

"Pretty much," she answered with a nod.

"Very well," Kevin said, his lips pinched in a tight line. "If that's what you want, I'll start a divorce."

"I filed yesterday," Penelope answered matter-of-factly. "You should get your papers any day."

He gasped, and then frowned at her. "This is not over."

She shrugged. "Yeah. It is."

With a glare, he turned and walked out the door.

She turned and looked at Derek. "I am so sorry you had to hear that, Hot Stuff."

He pulled her into his arms. "I know that, baby. It's okay."

"I love you," she said, burying her face in the warmth of his shirt. "Very much."

He kissed the top of her head. "I know that, too."

Wrapping her arms around him, she let his warmth and support flow over her, while she let her heart fly toward happily ever after.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. You guys make my day!...Now that Kevin's completely out of the picture, there are a few more things that need to be done..._

**Cuddling and Conversations**

Derek and Penelope were lying in bed together, naked and relaxed. Last night, they'd had a quick supper, kissing between bites of delicious hamburgers and homemade potato salad. Regardless of the cuisine, Derek found he was insatiable for her, not the food.

Leaving a half plate of food unfinished, they'd made their way upstairs and had decided to take a bath together. Penelope had an old claw foot bathtub that was very sturdy and deep. They'd washed each other—he'd taken extra time washing his favorite parts—and then made love, starting with her on top and ending with him making long, slow strokes on top of her, while the tub slowly drained.

And then he'd taken her to bed and made love to her again.

He caressed her back, trailing hand down to the curve of her buttock, giving a gentle squeeze, before returning up in a small circle. He couldn't stop touching her, feeling her. Each part of her was exquisite and an exciting discovery to him. He trailed his fingers back down, tickling the two small dimples above her bottom and the top triangle of tender tissue at the separation of her cheeks.

For his reward for his play, she squirmed and kissed him harder, sucking greedily on his tongue and his lower lip. Her breathless moans had him throbbing again, and they'd only just begun playing this morning.

It was technically his last day there, but he intended on staying behind and helping her as long as he could. There was no way he could leave her…not now, and hopefully not ever.

"Sweet baby?" he murmured against her mouth, cupping her bottom.

She gave an incoherent sigh of question as she started kissing his neck. He could feel her tongue lapping at his skin, her teeth playing with a defined cord.

"I think we should…oh, fuck, yeah…"

At that moment, Penelope slid her hand between their bodies and squeezed his aching cock—hard—just like he liked it.

Damn, she was a quick study!

Unable to speak or think, he let her caress his length, up and down for a moment, until the heated buzzing that screamed to him to take her that second left his system. He needed to get it under control; he had important things to discuss with her.

Devilish minx that she was, she reached her other hand over and traced circles around the sensitive crown of his cock. His breath came out in a hiss, and he closed his eyes, feeling her sweet, soft fingertips brushing over the tip.

"Like that, hmmm, baby boy?"

He opened his eyes to see her teasing grin, the blue of her eyes darkened to nearly midnight. Her arms pressed her beautiful breasts together, the raspberry tips standing at attention. She was obviously just as aroused as he was.

"You know I do, swee—oh, _damn_, girl!"

While he was talking, she'd licked her fingertip, and then tapped the responsive slit at the top. In response, a big welling of precum bubbled over and ran onto her fingers. She was still working her hand over him, steady, smooth movements, with the occasional flick of her wrist.

"Yummy," she whispered, before sliding down his body and taking his rigid penis into her mouth. She gave a loud, very happy moan, before beginning to bob up and down enthusiastically on as much of his shaft that she could squeeze into her mouth.

Derek rolled back and gave himself over to her touches. Talking was going to have to take a back seat to this…

* * *

><p>"What were you saying, angelfish?" Penelope later asked, lying on his chest.<p>

He was propped on pillows, recuperating from one hell of an orgasm that she'd given him.

Derek chuckled as he rubbed her back again. The woman was incredibly good at distracting him, but she did usually remember to ask him what his original intentions were afterward.

"I was just going to say that I think we should spend the whole day in bed together," he said softly.

She gave him a squeeze, and then sighed, nuzzling into his chest more. "I'd love to. I don't want you working any more before you have to go."

He kissed the top of her head. "Baby Girl, I said I didn't want to go. I'll ask Hotch for more time."

She looked up at him. "Sweetness, you only have so much vacation time. I know that."

"I want to spend it with you."

Her earnest, saddened look touched his heart. "Baby, I want that, too. But I know how important your family is to you, and I don't want you to miss out on time with them."

"Penelope, _you_ are my family, my first priority," he said in a no nonsense tone.

"Derek..."

He held her face in his hands. "I am in love with you. Someday soon, I want to marry you, and I want you to have my babies. I tell that to my momma, and she'd give her blessing for me to stay here for a hundred vacations."

Even while she giggled, her eyes misted. She leaned up, kissed him deeply but quickly, and then rested on his chest. "I'd like that very much, Hot Stuff."

"The marrying and babies part, or the me staying part?"

Her heartfelt happy sigh spoke volumes. "All of the above, my love."

His heart sang in his chest, as he held her close, the love they felt for each other washing and reverberating back and forth. "Then we need to call Hotch."

He felt her stiffen in his arms. "Oh…okay."

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Derek didn't say a word. He knew that she was telling a fib; something was obviously wrong, but he also knew his girl. She would start talking—it just took a minute.

Fifty-eight seconds later, she said, "Angelfish, I left them all in a huff. I was so upset and unhappy with all that happened—JJ, and then Em—I left."

He was stroking her hair, calming her. "We all felt that way. It was a terrible moment. We were all thinking of leaving."

She looked at him. "But I didn't answer them. Kevin kept the letters, and I didn't answer. I feel like a failure as a friend."

"Baby Girl, I understood," he said softly. "They'll understand, too."

She pouted at him. "Yeah, but you love me…"

He chuckled, reaching his hand up to cup her breast, making his thumb flick the pink tip of her nipple. "Angel, they do, too."

She nodded, obviously thinking about this. She was scowling, looking very perplexed and thoughtful. He didn't like that look on her face... especially in bed.

Time for payback.

"Well, I suppose I cou—ooh, Hot Stuff…"


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. Cruisin' right along, now!..Thank you to Jenny (JenRar) for her edit, even under trying circumstances. You rock, love..This is my favorite chapter...My only regret is wish I wrote this after we'd found out Prentiss was coming back..._

**Phone Calls and Friendship**

Later—much later!—Penelope woke and wandered down her staircase to her living room. It was so nice now; each step didn't creak and moan since they'd hammered the stair boards down and applied the runner. In fact, the whole house was so much more livable. She actually thought she might miss it when she left, a thought that had been preposterous a mere week ago.

As she reached the living room, she looked out the large bay window on the side of the house. The now bald sheep were occasionally baaing outside in the pasture, looking content. This was quite a bit different, too, from last week. They used to baa constantly, even while in the pasture grazing.

Apparently, sheep were like people in some ways—and squeaky wheels needed grease. She'd found out she'd had unhappy sheep and that there was a lot more to sheep farming than she anticipated. At least, there was a ton more than what Kevin had been doing with those poor creatures. She'd felt neglectful and upset when she'd learned of their plight.

Derek had spent a day earlier in the week hiring two sheep hands, who had shorn the animals and checked them for signs of diseases. There was feed that they needed to supplement their diet, and vitamins. There were a lot of pregnant sheep, which wasn't a good thing, due to too many rams and not enough ewes. They needed to be sold off for a workable operation.

Then one of the hands had shown Derek and herself how to milk the sheep—that was when they'd decided to keep the men hired permanently.

Amazingly, she'd had marketable wool and milk. They'd sold it, along with a lot of rams and lambies—cute little things!—and purchased more things to keep the remaining sheep happy.

Looking over at the pastoral scene, she tried to calm herself down for the big phone call she was about to make. She stepped outside, adjusted the satellite, and tapped a few buttons to get a good signal. Her heart began to race as she saw the steady green light, indicating that all was running and ready.

Stepping back into the house, she picked up the receiver from the satellite box and held it. For awhile, she simply stared at the numbers on the phone, unable to even think of what she would say. It was her BAU family, and yet...she felt so distant from them. In her heart, she wanted to call, but her mind was filled with trepidation.

She couldn't think of how she would start. Would JJ be upset that she hadn't known she'd returned? Would Hotch and Rossi wonder about her status and think she'd given up on the team? Would Reid be angry that she'd deserted him, too? She hadn't meant to; she'd written to him time and time again. Letters. She hadn't meant for any of that to happen; she had wanted them to stay in her heart...even though she had run away.

But the biggest, most perplexing question for her was: How would she even start?

She sat there, cradling the handset in her hands like it was a precious infant. She missed these people so much, more than they would ever know. She needed to tell them that; they had to understand how much they meant to her.

"It starts with _Hello_," she murmured to herself, and began to dial the numbers to Spencer Reid's cellular phone.

"Behavioral Analysis Unit; Dr. Reid speaking."

Immediately, tears pricked her eyes and her throat tingled with emotion. She swallowed hard. "Hi, Boy Genius."

"Garcia!" Reid's exuberant voice rang out clearly over the satellite. "Hello! How have you been?"

She wiped the tears away with a beaming grin. It seemed like such an understatement to all the things she needed to say, but she answered it anyway. "I'm fine."

"I was just reading through another one of your letters," he said with a chuckle. "It truly doesn't sound like sheep farming is the life for you. Did you get my letters? It didn't seem like you—"

"My letters?" she whispered, interrupting him. She hadn't thought they'd received any of her letters. Derek hadn't, so she'd assumed all of them didn't.

"Ummm, yes, your letters. Although you never answered my questions about visiting," he said, sounding questioning and somewhat petulant. "Are you okay? Can I come out there next month? I planned on a vacation there, hoping you would write back again telling me it was okay."

"Oh, Reid! You are always welcome here!" she gushed like her tears that were still flowing.

"Good!" he said in a pleased and contented tone. He paused a second, and then said, "Ahh, Garcia? Did Morgan make it there? How is everything with him?"

"Wonderful. Things couldn't be better," she answered honestly.

"Oh, I'm glad. I was kind of worried, since you hadn't written him, except to the group occasionally. I felt bad when he'd ask if I had heard from you, and he hadn't..."

Penelope blanched. Dear God. Kevin had mailed the letters to everyone else but Derek. He'd kept her from the one person she'd needed the most. Poor Derek must've thought she'd forgotten him and remembered everyone else. That anger warmed up in her again.

Reid cleared his throat, but when he spoke, he still sounded uncomfortable. "This is going to sound...peculiar, but I know that your relationship with Morgan had always been...different than the ones with the rest of the group. I hadn't questioned the falling out; I assumed you had reasons. Is it better now?"

"Reid, I love my Hot Stuff more than ever," she said passionately, emphatically. "I love him so much."

"Ummm...Garcia?" Reid said, sounding even more embarrassed. "I probably should've said that I have you on speaker now—"

"What was that all about?" Ashley Seaver asked.

The familiar voice of David Rossi rang out. "Inquiring minds want to know."

"That, my lovelies,"—she paused dramatically before continuing—"means I am in love with Derek Morgan."

"Well, hallelujah," Rossi proclaimed.

"That is good news," Ashley added.

"Ummm...what about Lynch?" Reid interjected quizzically.

"Who cares?" Rossi responded.

Penelope giggled.

"It's good to hear your laugh, Garcie," JJ remarked.

Penelope felt her heart soar. "Oh, Jayje! I've missed you so much! Kevin kept my letters from me, so I didn't know you were back! I am so sorry, my girl...I would never have forgotten you."

She laughed. "You wrote me at home, honey. It's okay. I had a feeling something wasn't right, but you kept saying you were happy there."

She had. It had been a big fat lie, but she didn't want everyone to worry about her.

"It feels so good to talk to you all," she said, unable to hold the emotion back in her voice.

"Garcia," Hotch said in his usual, stoic tone of voice.

"Yes, sir?" she questioned.

"When are you coming home?"

Her heart sang in her chest again, filled with the love and warmth she felt for all of these people. "As soon as I can get this beast fixed up and sold, I am out of here and back in Quantico."

The cheers went up and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She had goose bumps of pleasure everywhere.

Derek walked into the room and sat next to her. "Who are you talking to?"

"Everyone," she said.

He reached his hand out, and she gave him the phone. "Hey, Hotch? I need to extend my time here to help Penelope out...Yeah, I think maybe another month...Yeah, I can; no problem...Thanks, man." He handed the phone back to her with a smile. "It's all settled."

She gave him a quick kiss of contentment, before getting back on the line. "Thanks, Hotch...everybody."

"We love you, Garcia," JJ said.

"We do," Reid agreed.

The tears flowed again. "I love you all, too. I'm not going to say goodbye this time."

"No, kitten," Rossi replied, his tone gentle and strong, like so many other times he had soothed her in the past. "Say _arrivederci_."

"Isn't that the same as goodbye?" Seaver questioned.

"Not always," he said soflty. "For us, we are taking it literally."

Penelope sighed happily, knowing what he had to say would give her strength and carry her on. "And what is that, super agent?"

"_Until we meet again, _Kitten. _Until we meet again_."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

_AN: Thanks so much for the reviews, you're still making me smile..._

**Reunions and Rebirths**

"Baby, hand me a ¾ inch wrench," Derek said, reaching out his hand, not bothering to look up from the tractor's engine. He needed to keep his finger on the right belt in order to get the engine working again, and he didn't dare lose track of where he was. He'd asked Harvey what to do earlier that week to get it working, and the mechanic had mapped it out for him step by step.

"Here you go, babe."

A second later, he felt the cold metal touch his hand, along with the brush of Penelope's fingernails. Damn, that felt good—both the metal and her nails.

It was another scorcher in Fortune City and the outskirts of the town where they lived. The sweat was trailing down his back under his soaked tank top, and trickling down the back of his knees, making them itch. Since he lacked hair, he'd knotted a bandana around his head to keep the sweat from dripping in his eyes, but it wasn't keeping everything away. It was a bane to his person—he didn't perspire; he sweated like a horse.

At least he was keeping hydrated. Penelope had made some lemonade; he'd drank plenty of that, but he'd had a couple of ice cold beers already, too. He had his second one still open, waiting on the tractor seat for him to finish it.

"There!" he exclaimed, finally tightening the belt in place. "P, go turn the key."

"Okay," she said, hopping up into the seat. He stepped back and took a look. She turned the key; the engine let out a slight squeal, and then purred like a kitten. He watched as she smiled, and then took a long pull off of his bottle of beer.

"Hey, lady," he barked, reaching up to turn off the engine and pull her down. "That's mine."

"You need to share," she said, holding the bottle away from him. "Besides, I'm just as hot as you."

Derek couldn't argue with that. After learning about his calendar girls from around the US he'd had growing up, she loved to tease him dressing the part. She was wearing an adorable red checkered shirt tied at the waist and jean shorts similar to Daisy Duke's from the _Dukes of Hazard_, along with two identical ponytails that she'd curled and tied with bows. With her brush of freckles, slightly sunburned nose, and tanned limbs, she was the quintessential farmer's daughter...and she was indeed hot as hell.

She took another sip, and then licked her lips. "Mmmm..."

"You're not as hot as me," he growled, kissing her neck, "I'd say you're hotter."

"You're sweaty," she complained, but held onto him anyway.

He nibbled the same spots he'd kissed. "So are you."

She let out a low moan and leaned her head back to give him better access. "Baby Boy, we have work to do..."

"Screw work."

She gave a throaty laugh that he took as acquiescence, before he kissed her, hot and strong, his tongue diving for a mixed taste of beer and her sweetness. When they resurfaced, he kissed the other side of her neck.

"Ohhhh, Derek...oooh-what is that?"

That was odd enough for him to remove his mouth from her neck and look at her.

She was shading her eyes from the midday sun with her hand, peering down the long driveway. He peered there, too-A cloud of smoke, along with the barest glimpse of a van, had turned down the way.

It was probably one of the neighbors who visited once in awhile, the realtor, or some townspeople with some news. It wasn't very common in the three weeks he'd been there, but it wasn't unheard of.

"Someone's visiting," she said, taking her bandana from her pocket and wiping her forehead and hands. "I'll make some lemonade and...and..." Her mouth dropped open, and she put her hand to her lips.

"I'll be damned," Derek said, bursting into a smile. He knew that style of driving anywhere—sure, determined, and aggressive. He raised his hand and waved. "Hotch!"

Hotch honked the horn a few times before the large van pulled up to the house. "Morgan."

Rossi jumped out of the passenger side, and Derek looked at him.

"I'm not here to see you," Rossi scoffed with a teasing grin, and then reached for Penelope. "Kitten!"

Penelope gave him a huge hug, and stood there for a few moments, basking in the warmth of her friend's love.

"Help me with the door," Hotch said as he pulled open his side of the van and Derek did the other.

"Thank heavens. I was getting seasick!" JJ said, climbing out of the van. Penelope gave her a huge hug.

Reid followed, "Ah, technically, the term is motion sickness, since there is no body of water present."

"Come hug me, my sweet heap of gray matter," Penelope said, embracing Reid as he embraced her back.

"Where do we start?" JJ asked.

It was then Derek noticed they were all dressed in clothes to work in. Overalls, jeans, t-shirts.

"Oh, no," Penelope said, shaking her head emphatically. "You don't need to do that."

"Nonsense," Hotch replied, standing near her. He gave her a hug. "We're doing it for selfish reasons."

She looked up at him with a perplexed look on her face. "How is that?"

He smiled at her, a true Hotch grin, and said, "The faster we get this house up for sale, the faster we get our technical analyst back."

Penelope smiled, but her chin quivered, and Hotch folded her into his arms before she began to cry. He patted her back.

"Thank you," she murmured through tears.

"The team is just not the same without you, Garcia," he commented.

She stepped away and wiped her cheeks. "Well, I'm not the same without the team, either."

"Garcie," JJ said, standing nearby with tears in her own eyes from watching the reunion. "Tell us what to do; we're yours to order around."

Penelope nodded and laughed, and then looped her arm around JJ's shoulder. "Come with me, and you can paint!"

* * *

><p>Derek watched the women enter the house, and then handed Hotch, Rossi and Reid a beer from the cooler. "Thanks for coming. There's a lot to do in the barn."<p>

Rossi shook his head. "Just what I love to do...hang with sheep."

"Let me guess," Hotch replied, raising an eyebrow. "Kevin's idea?"

It was a given, so Morgan didn't even bother answering.

"Why would someone with chronic allergies even consider sheep farming?" Reid askedm looking confused. "It's one of the farming jobs with the highest amount of dander, and lanolin is a known irritant."

"You're the genius; you figure it out," Rossi quipped with a sardonic grin.

Reid grinned back. "My answer is not a pleasant one."

"Neither was mine, kid," Morgan laughed and clapped his shoulder, "but it's the right answer!"

* * *

><p>Hours later, they met in the house around the large, farmhouse dinner table. Everyone made comments on how beautiful, spacious, and lovely the house was now. Penelope glowed with pride, but lavished praise on Derek for all the hard work he'd done.<p>

"I couldn't have done any of it without Derek," she said, patting his hand.

"Baby Girl, you were there right beside me," he said, raising her hand and kissing her fingers.

"I would love to vacation somewhere like this," JJ said, looking around. "This would make a fabulous bed and breakfast."

"You know, I think you're on to something there," Rossi replied, taking a bite of his bread stick. "And with that historical aspect of Jesse James and gang being here, you could probably use that as a selling point, too."

"And keep the sheep farming as a side business, if the new owner felt like it," Hotch added. "Bonus income."

"Sell the sheep," Rossi said flatly.

"I kind of liked the sheep," Reid commented.

"Baby, that is a good idea," Derek said, squeezing her shoulders. "We should tell the realtor tomorrow."

Penelope leaned over and kissed Derek. "That's not a good idea, it's a great idea!"

Derek smiled, loving how at peace and happy Penelope was, and how energized she was for the future. He couldn't help but be pleased himself.

"I think this calls for a toast," Rossi said, holding up his glass. "To a great meal, great company, and a great vacation."

"Here, here!" everyone replied, as they clinked glasses, before finishing a fantastic dinner and an even more fabulous evening together.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

_AN: Thanks so much for reviewing. This is the second to last chapter, can you believe it?..._

**Heading to Town and Heading Home**

While the team started work around the house, Penelope and Derek were going to head into town to speak to the realtor. She'd called the man on the satellite phone last night and told him about the team's ideas.

He'd thought they had fabulous ideas, too. "I'll make some new signs for you and change the website," he'd said. "You can pick some up tomorrow."

"Almost ready, Hot Stuff?" Penelope called.

Derek was still in the bathroom getting ready. They'd been up late the night before; they'd sat around with the team, chatting and laughing, getting reacquainted with one another. After that, they'd made love—no more squeaky floor, thank goodness!—cuddled, and talked more, so happy and satisfied. No wonder his feet were dragging this morning.

Derek peeked his head around the corner, shaving foam still on his cheeks. "Five minutes, baby."

"Worse than any woman," Rossi quipped, walking behind her with a rotted board in his hands.

She giggled. Derek did take quite a bit of time when it came to grooming and personal care. Not that it didn't pay off...hells, yes, it did!

"Garcia...if I'm not mistaken, it appears I've discovered a bullet hole," Reid remarked through the front window screen. He was outside, replacing a siding shingle.

"That's Jesse, leaving his mark," Penelope teased.

Reid was quiet for a moment, peering deep. "Wait...I think I see the actual bullet."

"Oh, let me see," JJ said from her spot painting the rail. She wiped her hands on her jeans, and then crouched down and looked. "That is!"

Derek came down the stairs and ran his whisker free cheek against Penelope's hair, before looking outside. "What are they peering at?"

"A bullet."

Both of Derek's eyebrows shot up. "I gotta see that."

Penelope shook her head and rolled her eyes. Considering all the blood, gore, shootings, and weaponry these three saw on a daily basis, she wasn't too surprised at how interested they were in the old bullet.

"You should get that analyzed," Reid remarked. "Perhaps this could be a definite link to the James gang?"

Derek nodded. "I'll let the realtor know."

JJ stood and walked over to Penelope. "How long will you guys be gone?"

"A few hours," she said, and then smiled. "I'm bringing back ice cream." That had earned a well rounded amount of cheers from the listenening ears of the team.

JJ closed her eyes and sighed in delight. "Yummm!"

"Best ice cream ever," Penelope said with no exaggeration.

Derek grinned and wrapped his arms around Penelope. "I agree. Ready to go, sugar?"

She turned and kissed his cheek. "Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

><p>"Well, lookie there," Zeke said with a smile as the old truck rumbled into the spot in front of the Putnam Store. He was sitting out front of his shop, drinking a root beer. "Hi, kids."<p>

Derek took a seat next to him on the bench. "Hey, Zeke. How's it going?"

Zeke took a long pull of his root beer, and then handed one to Derek. "Business is business."

"Penelope!" Maude said, coming out with a tray of her outstanding cookies. "How are you, sweetheart?"

Penelope took the tray from her and set it down on the table, before giving the older woman a big hug. "I'm doing great. I have my team in from Washington, DC, visiting."

Maude's crinkled eyes sparkled. "Wonderful! Bring 'em into town; we'll have a dance."

"Maybe later. They're here helping me with the house."

"I bet that place is almost done now," Zeke commented, reaching down for a box of checkers.

Derek put his hands up in defeat. "Oh, no, you don't. You're not tricking me into another game."

Zeke glanced over at her in exasperation, a pleading look on his face.

Unable to turn down a friend in need, Penelope turned to Derek and gave him a half smile.

Derek's arms were crossed over his chest. "No. _Hell_, no. He's worse than Reid!"

Smiling, Penelope said, "I should bring Reid here. You would have a lot of fun with him, Zeke."

"If he plays by western rules, he's welcome," Zeke replied, setting up the board anyway.

Maude took a seat on the swing, and Penelope sat next to her, while Derek begrudgingly moved a checker. "Got business here today? I figure you must, since you have visitors and you wouldn't want to leave them too long."

Penelope nodded and pulled out the new poster from the realtor. She handed it to Maude to read.

Maude held it away from her a bit to focus on it, and then began reading the poster out loud. "Charming Bed and Breakfast and Sheep Farm available for sale in historic Fortune City. Small town living at its best."

Zeke made a raspberry sound while he double jumped Derek's checker. "Historic. That Dan Jones meant old."

"Realtors are meant to pretty things up," Maude explained.

Zeke rolled his eyes and made his next checkers move. "Well, I guess I'm _historic_, too."

"Zeke," Maude said, peering at the flier with warmth and love in her eyes. "You think it could be time?"

Zeke countered Derek's next move easily, and then jumped him again. "Could be."

"She's asking a great price," Maude added.

Zeke never looked up from the board. "I see that."

Derek and Penelope were both frowning in confusion. "What are you two talking about?" Derek finally asked.

"Miss Penelope," Zeke said with a toothless smile at her, "we'd like to purchase that property of yours."

Penelope gasped. "What?"

Maude took a bite of a cookie and began to explain. "For the past couple of years, Zeke and I have wanted to semi-retire. Work on a weekend basis only. Our oldest daughter, Harper, and her husband, Wayne, are coming home here, and they were willing to take over the store."

"Seems that Bed and Breakfast and sheep business would work out right perfect for us," Zeke commented.

"I...I don't know what to say," Penelope remarked, still shell shocked.

"We do pretty good with our business here," Maude said. "Here...we can cut you a holding check today."

Derek's jaw hit the floor. "You're going to pay her _outright_ for it?"

Zeke nodded. "Yep."

"But...but you haven't even seen what we've done with it!" he sputtered in disbelief. This sort of stuff didn't happen in big cities!

Maude patted Penelope's arm with a warm smile. "You're good people; we know you've done right by it."

Penelope gave Maude a hug. "I'd be honored to sell to you."

Maude squeezed her back, and then said, "Under one condition..."

"What's that?" Derek asked.

Giving a grin that made him look much younger, Zeke said, "Whenever you find yourself in Fortune City, you're both guests of the inn...free of charge."

Penelope nodded, her throat full of tears. "Of course."

"It's always going to be your house, too, Penelope," Maude said softly. "A place you can call home."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Well, since this checkers game is over, I'm going to call Dan Jones," Zeke remarked, looking over his stalemated game with Derek. He shook his head as he walked into the store, grumbling, "_Historic_...hah!"

Maude gave them both another hug. "We'll be seeing you soon at closing," she said, and then she followed her husband into the store.

Derek wrapped his arms around her. "Are you okay, Baby Girl?"

Penelope let the feelings roll over her. She was going to miss Fortune City and the friends and family she'd made there, but she was so ready to leave and make a fresh start with her team that she loved so much. She would always have a piece of her heart in Wyoming, and she would visit often.

And life was now exactly on course where it was always meant to be, with Derek, in his arms.

Turning to face him, she looped her arms around his neck. "I'm more than okay, Hot Stuff. I'm absolutely perfect."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31- The Epilogue**

_AN: Well, we have reached the conclusion! Thanks for reading, reviewing, alerting, favoriting, making my day-ing...I hope you all enjoyed this story as much as I have enjoyed delivering it to you. So...what would you like next? I can promise it'll have humor...or angst...or heat...or a little of all of the above... in an epic or an itty bitty oneshot... :) Lots of love, Kricket_

**Coming Home Again **

Penelope sat next to her husband, holding his hand, as he drove down the dirt driveway to the house on Cherry Tree Lane. It had been nearly a year since they'd last been there. It was a Thursday, so she knew that Maude and Zeke would be busy getting things ready for their usual weekend rush of guests.

_Putnam's Pastoral Paradise_ was a happening place. They had been full nearly every weekend with people from the cities nearby and tourists. Although it wasn't just for the delicious food, cozy atmosphere, and great conversation that the Putnam's provided. It was the true historic value of the place.

The bullet that Reid had found in the shingle did not belong to Jesse James, or any of his gang. In fact, despite popular belief, the James's gang had never made it to the town of Fortune City. However, it was determined that "Yeller- Hair" Bart Conway, an outlaw turned sheriff turned _statesman,_ had stayed there with his mistress and took target practice with his posse against the house on many inebriated Saturday nights.

It seemed that political scandal made people sit up and take notice...even if it had happened in the 1800's.

"Looks the same," Derek said, as he pulled the rental car up to the side of the house.

"Think the rest of the team is here yet?"

Derek shook his head and pointed to the front porch. "Poor Reid..."

Sitting across a checker board from Zeke Putnam, Spencer Reid was focusing on the game so intently, he didn't even notice them pulling up.

"Afternoon, Morgans!" Zeke called...and then tripled jumped Reid.

Reid gaped at the man. "You...how...you..."

Zeke hooted. "Age and treachery overcomes youth and skill, son."

"I demand a rematch!" Reid sputtered, unable to believe his own eyes. "Seriously. With a line judge watching. Morgan! Come watch."

Derek kissed her cheek. "I better go..."

"Penelope!" Maude said, coming out to give her a hug. "Welcome home, sweetheart."

"Maude, it's so good to see you. You look wonderful."

Maude patted her belly. "I look fat. Too much good country cookin' and relaxing out here."

Penelope smiled. "Well, I still think you look wonderful."

"So do you, pretty girl," Maude replied, making her blush. "You need a sandwich, some tea?"

"I'd love some," she said. "Did any of the others arrive yet?"

The entire team had decided to take a weekend vacation in Wyoming. They'd realized with their pacing, they needed more relaxation time and time to reconnect. After the chaos of the last two years, with JJ leaving, Prentiss dying, and Penelope leaving, Hotch was now a firm believer in team burnout, and demanded regular retreats for them all.

"Spencer came last night. He's been playing games on and off with Zeke for hours now." Maude patted the satellite phone. "The others called and said they're coming, too."

Penelope didn't like the idea of a couple as old as Maude and Zeke being as far away as the farm without phone support, so she'd left the satellite phone and had showed them how to use it. She kept in close contact with them and Harper, their daughter.

Maude cut a turkey and cucumber sandwich, took half for herself and half for Penelope. "You happy back in Quantico?"

She nodded. Once she had arrived back home, it was almost as if she had never left, except now she faced her fears head on, a stronger woman, with Derek by her side. She still worried about her team and for her team, but she knew she could make it through anything.

"Well, I can tell," Maude replied. "You are just glowing. That Derek is taking good care of you."

"That he is," she said, taking a sip of her tea. He made her stronger, and she made him stronger, just by loving each other.

"He should. He's your perfect match, like Zeke is mine."

"No truer statement has ever been said."

Maude gave her another look. "That glow...doesn't mean anything else, now, does it?"

Penelope giggled at the astute older woman. "Hush! Not until later."

Maude smiled with pure joy, and then patted her hand. "It's good to have you home, Penelope."

Penelope smiled, and held Maude's hand in hers, squeezing tightly. "It's good to be home."


End file.
